Fall Awake
by shadowfire125
Summary: Sequel to SGCW. Good Cop is slowly making his way back to the world, but if Bad Cop had issues… well…
1. Prologue

Check it out guys, it's a sequel! (Titled after the song by the Ditty Bops.)

* * *

_He drifted, floated, not really sure where he was, how long he'd been there, or even _who _he was, and he wondered occasionally if he actually existed at all. Sometimes he thought maybe someone else was there, and he would try to head towards them, but whoever it was had such overpowering feelings of guilt and shame and anxiety and self-loathing that he had to retreat again. _

_And then after a long while (or perhaps not), he began to feel aware of the passage of time, or something like it. He realized that the atmosphere around him was getting lighter, becoming more spacious bit by painstaking bit. It became easier to sense that other person, and while he still felt the need to stay away from them, he was starting to feel less alone._

_But just as it seemed he could finally bring himself to approach the person, everything suddenly changed, locked down like prison bars slamming shut. There was panic, then suffocating terror, then tremendous _rage_, and it pressed in on him from all sides and he was drowning, he needed to get away, needed to escape-_

_Some time later, he slowly came back to himself (or what he thought of as himself). Now there was peace. Just… peace. It was good. He basked in it. _

_Then… longing?_

_And he heard (he _heard_, though it was distant) the other person say, "_I wish you could be here, buddy."

_The fog in his mind suddenly dispersed, as if blown away by a strong wind, and he _remembered_. I _am_ here! he wanted to scream, but his voice was weak. He summoned up all the energy he could. I'm here, I'm _here_!_

_There was a frozen moment, then Bad Cop's overwhelming relief crashed over him._

_Good Cop smiled as he slipped back into unconsciousness, completely drained. He was coming home_.


	2. Chapter 1

_I wanna meet Benny,_ Good Cop said.

It had been a little over a month since Good Cop began making his comeback. So far, he hadn't had nearly enough energy to take control of their body, but his confidence had been growing lately.

"You sure you're ready to come out?" Bad Cop asked. It was evening, and he was driving home from the station. Benny had left earlier – as a Master Builder, he now had a split responsibility between acting as Bad Cop's deputy and helping rebuild the city.

_I think so_, Good Cop replied. _For a little while, at least._

Bad Cop nodded. "Then you got it, buddy. I know Ben's been looking forward to meeting you."

_You really do care about him_, Good Cop said.

Bad Cop scowled even as his ears went red, and Good Cop laughed. _I'm happy for you_, he said. _And from what you've told me, I think I'll like him as much as you do._ Then he suddenly added:_ I've always felt guilty, you know_.

Bad Cop's forehead creased. "About what?"

_About making those one-sided relationships_, Good Cop said. _You were never really into them._

Bad Cop sighed as he pulled into the apartment building's parking garage. "Don't worry about it," he said.

But Good Cop _did_ worry. He was the worrier. Bad Cop barged through life like a bull in a china shop, and Good Cop swept up behind him and _worried_.

Bad Cop seemed to sense his concern and said, "If we'd left it up to me, nothing ever would have happened." When Good Cop still hadn't responded by the time Bad Cop had locked the car and made it into the elevator, Bad Cop added, "You know I never really minded. We've talked about this."

_I know_, Good Cop replied. _I still feel bad._

"Please don't," Bad Cop groaned as he unlocked his apartment door.

"Don't what?"

Bad Cop jumped a little in surprise, his hand instinctively going for the holster at his hip. But it was just Benny, settled on the couch and slurping up some kind of noodle soup. Bad Cop sighed and closed the door behind him. "Nothing," he said. "Just talking to Good Cop." He hesitated, then said, "He says he thinks he's ready to come out for a bit and meet you."

Benny's brow furrowed. "Do you not want him to?"

For a moment, Bad Cop was confused, then he said, "Oh! No, we were talking about something else. I'd like you to meet him, too."

Benny grinned, nearly spilling his soup as he scrambled upright. "Heck yeah!"

Bad Cop twisted his fingers together, suddenly nervous for a reason he couldn't name. "Let me just get his glasses," he said, shuffling towards the bedroom. Benny nodded, and Bad Cop all but fled to his room. The glasses were resting on top of the bureau, and his hands shook as he picked them up. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slid them on.

Good Cop opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before his vision came into focus. He reached up and adjusted his glasses a little. There was a crack in one lens, and he wondered how that had happened. He flexed his hands experimentally and looked around the room. The bathroom door was open, and his gaze caught on the mirror. He squinted, puzzled. There was something not quite right about his reflection. He crossed the bedroom and flicked on the bathroom light.

The left side of his face was covered in scars. Dazedly, he put his hand to his cheek to confirm they were real. "Bad," he croaked.

_I know, buddy_, Bad Cop said. _I'm sorry._

"But…" Good Cop said, feeling dizzy. "How did this happen? Did you get hurt while I was gone?"

He felt Bad Cop freeze. They hadn't really talked about Good Cop's missing weeks. Bad Cop had seemed reluctant to bring it up unless Good Cop did, and Good Cop hadn't really felt the need to. He just wanted to focus on the present, on regaining his strength.

_You don't… You don't remember?_

"Remember what?" Good Cop asked, but his heart had begun to race. There was something, something just under the surface, lurking and dark.

_What was your last memory?_ Bad Cop sounded terrified.

Good Cop ground the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Lord Business was showing us his collection… Some kind of cloak, I think?" Or was that it? Was there a room, murky and cold?

_Let me back out,_ Bad Cop said hurriedly. _Let me take over._

But Good Cop wasn't listening. He gripped the edge of the sink, breath coming in short gasps. Where was this panic coming from? Why was he so _scared_?

_Dammit!_ Bad Cop shouted, pounding against the mental barrier that separated them. _Get back in here!_

Good Cop's heartbeat slammed in his ears. He was petrified, couldn't move a single muscle. Every one of his functions had locked up.

Bad Cop let out a roar of frustration, battering at the barrier with everything he had. _Breathe, you eedjit!_

Good Cop sucked in an involuntary breath.

_Ben!_ Bad Cop screamed, and his voice managed to tear its way out of Good Cop's throat.

There were thudding footsteps as Benny raced from the living room to see what was going on, and he arrived in time to see Good Cop's knees give out and his head crack against the counter as he crumpled to the floor.


	3. Chapter 2

_this one's really short sorry_

* * *

Waking up was like trying to climb out of a swamp, muck sucking at his limbs as he struggled to pull himself free. Slowly, his eyes blinked open. The worried face above him swam into focus. It was young and freckled, but the boyish features were creased with distress.

"You must be Benny," Good Cop tried to say, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth, and the words came out clumsy and slurred.

Benny gave him a watery smile. "Not really how I imagined our first meeting would go."

Good Cop made a noise of agreement. Speaking wasn't coming easily to him just then. He became vaguely aware of the fact the room he was in was moving. It didn't look like the bathroom. It was too small. There was sharp wailing lancing through his splitting headache. Sirens? He wished he could think. Everything was getting fuzzy again. What had he been doing? Maybe the kid hovering over him knew. Could that be Benny? He wanted to ask, but his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He was so tired. Maybe he'd just sleep for a bit. That sounded good. Yes…

He woke again to a steady beeping. His eyelids were heavy, but he managed to push them open. Above him was a clinical white ceiling. He felt like his limbs were made of lead, and his head was throbbing. Where was he? He flopped his head to one side to look. There was a wall and a window with its blinds drawn shut. He flopped his head to the other side. A young man was draped over one of the chairs against the opposite wall, asleep.

"Where," Good Cop said, but his voice was barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Where am I?"

The young man was startled awake, and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled to the bedside. "You're in the hospital," he said, gripping the bar at the side of the bed.

Good Cop's brain felt clogged. "Why?" he croaked.

The young man ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "You had kind of a nasty fall." He searched Good Cop's face. "Do you know who I am?"

Good Cop thought maybe yes, but he couldn't quite remember. He shook his head and immediately regretted it when his head spun.

"That's okay," the young man said. "You've been fading in and out, and we haven't really officially met. I'm Benny."

_Benny_. Yes. That sounded right. "I'm…" he said, then hesitated. After a moment, his memory latched onto something. "I'm a cop."

The blood drained from Benny's face. "Your name's Good Cop," he said hoarsely.

Oh. Yes. That was right, too. He was Good Cop. Now he remembered. "Right," he said. "Sorry. I'm a bit out of it."

Benny smiled weakly. "I'll say."

But wasn't there supposed to be someone else? "Bad Cop," Good Cop said.

Benny looked confused. "What about him?"

"We're a team," Good Cop replied.

There was a new expression creeping onto Benny's face, but Good Cop couldn't place it. He didn't like it, though. It was making him worry. He looked at the ceiling again so he didn't have to see it. "We've always been a team," he said.


	4. Chapter 3

Good Cop watched the IV drip vacantly. His head was feeling a lot clearer now, and the doctor was giving him a rundown of his condition. He'd hit his temple on the corner of the counter, splitting his skin enough to warrant stitches and giving him a concussion. They were going to keep him here a little while longer just to keep an eye on his condition, but he should be fine.

He only really half-listened. There was an empty section of his mind, and he wondered if maybe this was what it had been like for Bad Cop while Good Cop had been gone.

Good Cop closed his eyes and prodded at the blank space, and to his surprise, he was met with a wall. It wasn't empty. It was blocked off. _Intentionally_.

The barrier that made them two distinct people wasn't impenetrable. They could talk to each other, and while they couldn't see or hear what the other was seeing and hearing, they could hear what the other had to say. And if the situation called for it, the switch could be forced, unless there was something _really_ wrong.

This wall was different from their normal barrier. There were no chinks to communicate through, not even with emotions. For some reason, Bad Cop had completely sealed himself away.

Good Cop put his metaphorical hand against it. It was cold, unwelcoming. It very much wanted to be left alone. He inspected it anyway, looking for some fault, some little crack. Something he could get through. But there was nothing. As if sensing him nosing about, the wall began to heat up, attitude rising from a surly "go away" to actual anger. But there was something… something almost desperate. He reached for it again-

"Good Cop?"

Good Cop snapped back into reality.

It was Benny, standing by the bed and holding a bar of chocolate. "You okay?" he asked, offering up the chocolate.

Good Cop blinked and accepted the chocolate. He looked at it, then up at Benny again, puzzled.

Benny laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Bad Cop said that chocolate always helped you feel better," he said, looking down sheepishly. "So I figured I'd get you some."

Good Cop's lips twitched upwards a bit, then grew into a full smile. "Thank you," he said. "I think I'm starting to feel better already."

Benny relaxed and pulled up a chair as Good Cop unwrapped the candy and bit into it. It was the cheap kind you got out of vending machines, but it was still good. He'd almost forgotten what chocolate tasted like.

Benny didn't seem to feel the need to fill up the silence, and Good Cop was glad for that. He wasn't sure if he was ready to really talk. There was a lot to think about. He had a feeling he was missing more memories than he realized, and he had a sneaking suspicion they were all locked up behind that wall. But why? What did Bad Cop think he was doing? It left an ache under his ribs, not being able to talk to his counterpart.

By the time Good Cop had reached the end of the bar, though, Benny was beginning to get restless. He obviously wanted to ask a question, but didn't want to pressure Good Cop.

Good Cop side-eyed him. "You want to ask about Bad Cop, don't you?"

Benny went red. "Y-yeah, I guess," he said, embarrassed. "I'm just kinda worried, you know? Not that I don't like you, it's just-"

Good Cop nodded. "It's fine, I understand." He sighed. "I wish I could tell you."

Benny straightened up in alarm. "He's not gone, is he?"

"No," Good Cop said, crumpling up the wrapper. "But he won't talk to me." He said it with more frustration than he meant to, and tried to throw the wrapper into the trashcan across the room. It missed, and he scowled. Then he caught Benny watching him with an odd expression. "What?"

Benny rubbed his hand over his mouth in a contemplative manner. "It's kind of funny," he said. "How you two actually look different even though you have the same face."

Good Cop raised his eyebrows. His parents were able to tell the difference between them without the glasses, but very few other people could.

"Bad Cop frowns so much," Benny continued, "but when you frown… it just looks different. I don't know. Your smiles are different, too."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Benny looked taken aback. "No way, dude! I think it's actually really neat."

Bad Cop had been right about Benny. There was something just so _genuine_ about the spaceman. It was refreshing. As cops, they didn't get a lot of honesty from people, and even Lord Business was rarely sincere with them.

A flash of hot anger shot through him at the name, and he wondered where that had come from.

"Well," Good Cop said with a smile. "I'm glad you think so."

Benny grinned back at him.


	5. Chapter 4

_many questions! answers tba_

* * *

Good Cop wanted to ask Benny what had gone wrong, but he was dreading the answer, so he sat on the question until they got home, where they could talk in private.

But even once they were in the apartment, the words stuck to his tongue, and he quietly retreated to the bedroom while Benny puttered around in the kitchen. He lay down on top of the covers, curled loosely on his side. The wall in his head was still solid and silent, and he didn't try approaching it again.

"Hey, G?" asked a cautious voice behind him.

Good Cop didn't feel like moving, but he still turned a little to look. Benny was hovering in the doorway, holding a bowl with a spoon in it.

"I made chicken noodle soup yesterday," Benny explained. "I thought I'd heat up some for you."

Good Cop smiled weakly and pushed himself into a sitting position before accepting the bowl. It smelled good. He sipped at it, careful of the temperature.

Benny settled on the edge of the bed next to him. "I cooked for Bad Cop when we first met, too," he said. "He didn't look like he'd been eating properly."

Tasty as the soup was, Good Cop suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He lowered the bowl, staring into it. "We never really talked about what happened while I was gone," he said softly. "How was he?" When Benny looked reluctant to answer, Good Cop added, "Please. I need to know."

Benny looked down at his hands in his lap. "He was doing really badly," he said. "This apartment was a real mess the first time I visited."

"You cleaned it up," Good Cop said. "He told me about that."

Benny smiled faintly. "He was having a lot of trouble coping with his past, and what Business did."

"The Kragle?" Good Cop asked.

"Among other things," Benny replied. "I don't think I'm the one you should be talking to about this, though."

"He's not talking to me," Good Cop said. "I can't figure out why. He's just blocked himself off. It's like he trying to hide something." Working up his courage, he asked, "Benny, what went wrong when I switched with him yesterday?"

Benny looked surprised. "I was hoping you could tell me. I just saw you pass out."

Good Cop frowned. "I can't remember anything after he told you that I wanted to meet you." That wasn't quite right, though. "I do remember going into the bathroom. We have scars now. He wouldn't tell me how they happened. But that's it."

Benny's face creased in concern. "You don't know?"

Good Cop shook his head. "Do you?"

Benny nodded wordlessly.

"How?" Good Cop began to ask, but something slammed down on his mind. Spots danced across his vision. The bowl slipped from his fingers as he reached up to clutch his head, and he doubled over, gasping. Benny was panicking, trying to find out what was wrong while simultaneously trying to do something about the spilled soup.

The pain receded, and things began to come back into focus. "I'm okay," he wheezed. "I'm okay. Sorry."

"Oh my god, dude, don't _apologize_," Benny said, hand pressed against Good Cop's forehead as he searched the cop's eyes.

Good Cop blinked, and suddenly became _very _aware of the hot soup soaking into his pants. Cursing up a storm, he rolled off the bed and wrestled with the belt, shoving them down and hopping out of the legs. Then he remembered Benny was there and glanced over at the spaceman. Benny had his hand over his mouth and a distressed look on his face like he wanted to laugh, but also _really_ _didn't_ want to.

"What?" Good Cop asked irritably. His head was still aching a little, and his thighs stung from the near-burn.

"I just," Benny said, his expression a battle between worry and amusement. "Bad Cop almost never swears. And-" He was cracking. "-I don't think I've ever heard that many swear words at once."

Good Cop put his hands on his hips and gave Benny a very stern look, but Benny began to laugh for real, and Good Cop realized he probably didn't cut an exceptionally intimidating figure in his underwear. "I," he said stiffly, "am going to put some pants on, and _you_-" He emphasized the word by pointing at Benny, "-are going to the other room while I do so."

Benny put his hands up in concession, pursing his lips to hold back laughter, and grabbed the soup bowl as he left.

Good Cop ran a hand through his hair as he contemplated the noodles strewn over the bedspread. Oh, well. He could worry about that later. There was a far more pressing matter at hand. He dug a pair of sweatpants out of the bureau and pulled them on, then went to the bathroom. There was still blood on the edge of the counter where he'd hit his head. Another thing he'd have to clean up. He closed the bathroom door and locked it. This was going to require a bit of peace and solitude. He lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down.

He shut his eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale_-_

_He opened his eyes. A grassy field stretched out below him, speckled with wildflowers swaying in the warm breeze. He was standing atop a small hill, beneath a large tree. In one direction, he could see the speck of his family home, a thin ribbon of smoke rising from the chimney._

_This was their mindspace. The place they could go when they wanted to talk face to face. If he was going to find Bad Cop anywhere, it was going to be here._

_He turned to look in the other direction, and his jaw dropped._


	6. Chapter 5

more questions? answers still tba

* * *

_It was probably one of the most foreboding walls he'd ever seen, and he'd seen some pretty foreboding walls. It was seamless and black, so tall that he had to crane his neck back to see all the way up, and the top was festooned with thick coils of barbed wire. Once the bright blue sky reached the wall, it took on a ruddy, ominous hue. The grass at the very foot had dried and cracked._

_Good Cop swore some more as he stormed towards it, stopping at the base. Grumbling to himself, he made his way along the wall, looking for some kind of door or gate. There _had_ to be one. He didn't know how long he walked. The wall seemed to go on forever, slowly curving through the endless meadow. Finally, he stopped and aimed a kick at it, though not too hard because he at least had the sense to know it would hurt. It was more about the intention. "I know you're in there!" he shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

_There was no response._

_Good Cop felt like screaming. "This isn't like you! We've always been able to talk!" He clenched his hands into fists and stared downwards, hot tears pricking at his eyes. "Don't leave me alone, Bad," he whispered. "Please. Please don't leave me alone."_

* * *

In the kitchen, Benny put the bowl into the sink and wondered what he should do next. What Good Cop had said about Bad Cop intentionally sealing himself away worried him, especially coupled with the fact that Good Cop didn't seem to remember anything.

Good Cop's words echoed in his ears. _It's like he's trying to hide something_.

And when Good Cop had asked about how they got the scars, something had happened to him.

_Could it be…?_

Was Bad Cop _actively _trying to keep Good Cop from remembering?

Benny couldn't help but recall what Bad Cop had told him about what Business had done to Good Cop – to _both_ of them. How Bad Cop had reacted to seeing Business at the police station. Was he trying to protect Good Cop from all that?

It seemed the likeliest answer, and it worried Benny for a deeper reason than he could name.

* * *

_Bad Cop was beginning to wonder if this had been such a great idea after all. It was starting to hurt. A lot. He curled up into a ball to escape the sensation of knives cutting through his skin, but there was no getting away, and he whimpered._

_Then it abruptly stopped. He was in Business' office again, looking up at the overlord, pleading with him. I can't do it, they're innocent!_

_A punch in the gut. He fell to his knees. Hands on his arms, hauling him back to his feet. Dragging him away. The room. Knives._

_And again._

_He gritted his teeth. He'd always been the one who protected Good Cop from things like this. He was the one who took on the bullies in school. The one who helped Good Cop preserve his sunny outlook on life. _

_He needed Good Cop and his sunny outlook._

_But he could feel his better half now, prodding at the wall he'd put up. Bad Cop willed him to go away. It was getting hard enough to hold it up without Good Cop trying to find its weak spots._

_He _had_ to keep Good Cop out._

* * *

_Good Cop paced. He didn't know what to do. What was so horrible that Bad Cop felt like he needed to keep it locked away? He racked his brain, trying to search out some clue, some hint that Bad Cop might have missed. _

_They'd been in Lord Business' office. He rubbed his temples. Why did thinking about Business make him feel angry? Something had happened in that office. He looked over his shoulder. His parents' house was still visible in the distance. It sent a pang of something he couldn't name through him. _

_He sat down with his back against the wall and put his head between his knees. This was impossible. There was something terribly wrong. He wished Bad Cop would talk to him. They'd always been open with each other. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence._

_Then he scrambled back to his feet and faced the wall again. "Fine!" he screamed, kicking the wall for real this time. "Be this way!" With a frustrated growl, he vanished from the mindspace._

_A small crack appeared where he'd kicked the wall._

* * *

Benny heard Good Cop leave the bedroom, and looked up just as he wandered into the kitchen where Benny was doing dishes. Good Cop scanned the room, and Benny couldn't help noticing the way his gaze caught on a knife on the counter beside him for just a moment too long.

"How're you doing?" Benny asked, setting a plate on the rack to dry.

Good Cop startled out of his thoughts, then gave Benny a shaky smile. "Not really sure," he replied.

Benny opened his mouth to respond, but the phone on the wall began to ring, cutting him off.

Quick as a flash, Good Cop snatched the knife off the counter and whirled around, throwing the knife at the phone. The blade sunk into the wall just above it with a _thunk_.

"Dude!" Benny yelped.

Good Cop looked just as shocked, staring slackly at the still vibrating knife.

Eyeing Good Cop warily, Benny edged over to the phone and answered it. It was Jenkins.

"We were wondering if Bad Cop was going to be able to make it in tomorrow," she said.

"Uh," Benny replied. "I don't think he will. And, uh, for that matter," he said, still watching Good Cop carefully, "I don't think I will either."


	7. Chapter 6

_I got the non-binary Unikitty headcanon from the wonderfully talented mattecat and if you aren't reading A Piece of Resistance go do that now you can always come back to this fic later_

* * *

Once he hung up, Benny sent Good Cop back to the bedroom to clean up the noodles. He needed space to think. Twanging absently at the knife embedded in the wall, he realized that he had to call in the cavalry. But who? Someone sincere, open, trustworthy. Someone who knew about repressed emotions.

Inspiration struck, and he snatched up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?" answered a cheerful voice.

"Unikitty," Benny said with relief.

"Benny!" Unikitty squealed delightedly. "I never see you anymore! How are you?"

"That's… a bit of a loaded question," Benny replied. "Would it be unfair of me to ask how fast you can get to Bricksburg? I know you're busy with the reconstruction of Cloudcuckooland, but-"

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Unikitty asked, alarm creeping into their usually bright tone.

"Um," Benny said. "You've met Good Cop, right?"

"Y-es…" Unikitty replied slowly. "Why? I heard he was gone."

"The situation's changed a bit," Benny said, cupping his hand to the mouthpiece and peering into the living room to make sure Good Cop hadn't come back yet. "I don't really wanna talk about it over the phone."

"You're worrying me, Benny!"

Benny wanted to tell them that they didn't need to worry, but that would be lying. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "Can you come?"

"Of course!" Unikitty exclaimed. "I just gotta clear up some stuff and I'll be there in an hour, max!"

"Oh, no, you don't-" Benny began in dismay, but Unikitty had already hung up. He sighed and put the phone back on the receiver. After a moment, he tugged the knife out of the wall and dropped it into the sink, then went to find Good Cop.

Good Cop was still in the bedroom, bundling up the be-noodled blanket. He looked up as Benny came in and blanched when he saw the spaceman. "B-Benny, I," he stammered, "I'm so, so sorry, I- I don't know what came over me, the phone just- it took me by surprise-"

Benny held up his hands. "Chill, dude. We're gonna work this out, okay?"

Good Cop bit his lip and nodded wordlessly.

"I called someone who I think can help," Benny continued. "You're familiar with Unikitty, right?"

Good Cop adjusted his cracked glasses nervously. "We've met," he replied, his eyes darting around the room. "But not on the best of terms, I'm afraid."

"That's alright," Benny said, feeling like he was trying to calm a scared and cornered animal. "It's in the past. We just gotta focus on the present, yeah?"

Good Cop swallowed. "Yeah," he said, his voice cracking.

"Okay. Okay, good." Benny was scared, too, but he was doing his best to hide it. Compared to _this_, helping Bad Cop through his issues had been a cakewalk. Benny had personal experience with anxiety. He knew how to cope with that. But this… Good Cop's behavior was becoming erratic, and Benny wasn't qualified. The logical thing to do would be to call in a _real_ therapist or psychiatrist, but Benny's gut instinct told him that might be a bad idea. He needed someone close and personal, and Unikitty had helped him out before.

"Look," Benny said. "Why don't you go rest on the couch, watch some TV or something? I can finish up in here."

Good Cop mumbled an agreement and skittered out past Benny. Benny watched to make sure Good Cop was going where he was supposed to, and once the cop flicked on the TV, Benny finished collecting the blanket. He didn't think it would be a good idea to leave the apartment with Good Cop alone to go down to the laundry room, so he just plopped the blanket in the laundry basket and went to fish another one out of the closet.

Once he was done remaking the bed, he went back into the living room. Good Cop didn't seem to be actually _watching_ the TV, just looking at it. Benny settled down on the far end of the couch, unnerved by Good Cop's thousand-yard stare.

It wasn't too much later that there was a knock at the door, and Benny scrambled to answer it. Unikitty stood in the hall in their human form, dressed brightly in frills and pink.

"I'm glad you could make it so fast," Benny said, keeping his voice low. "Come on in."

"What's going on?" Unikitty asked, their usually sunny expression clouded by worry.

Benny pressed his finger to his lips and ushered them into the kitchen. "I'm not entirely sure myself," he said once they were in private, and he explained the situation as best as he could, starting from the beginning – what Business had done to Good Cop, how they'd thought Good Cop was dead and his subsequent comeback, and, finally, what had happened the day before. "I think Bad Cop's trying to suppress Good Cop's memories, and I think it's messing G up big time," Benny concluded.

Unikitty listened to the whole tale in silence, and it was a few more moments still before they spoke again. "That's not very happy."

"Unikitty," Benny groaned. "I called you here for help, not to state the obvious."

Unikitty stuck their tongue out at him. "We could try entering his mind," they said.

Benny drummed his fingers on the counter next to him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, how else are we going to figure out what's going on?" Unikitty asked. "From what you've told me, Good Cop doesn't seem to be in any shape to explain things."

"Yeah, I guess," Benny said reluctantly. "I just don't like doing that."

"You've gotta come!" Unikitty said, latching onto the front of Benny's shirt. "You're his boyfriend!"

Benny leaned back a little. "I'm Bad Cop's boyfriend," he muttered.

Unikitty gave him a pouting glare. "Bad Cop's going to be there, too!"

Benny turned his face away, his expression unreadable.

"Benny," Unikitty pleaded. "I know you don't like mindspaces. But this is really important!" When he still wouldn't look at them, they stood on tiptoe to get in his face, their pearly white horn bumping against his forehead, and said, "_You _called _me_ here for help! This is what I think we should do, and I can't go in alone. They know you. They're comfortable with you. You gotta do this, Benny. For the cops."

The corners of Benny's mouth tugged down, but he finally met Unikitty's gaze. "Alright," he said. "Let's do this."

Unikitty stepped back with a grin and swished around to walk back into the living room. Benny trailed after them, and they both stopped in front of the couch. "Hey, G?" Benny asked.

Good Cop's eyes flicked up to look at the pair, his gaze switching back and forth between Unikitty and Benny. After a split second, he smiled. "Hey, Unikitty," he said. "I hope there aren't any hard feelings between us."

"No-sir-ee!" Unikitty said brightly with a wide smile that showed their sharp canines. "I just wanna help!"

Good Cop nodded, his eyes fixed on Benny now. "Is there a plan?" he asked.

"Yeah," Benny replied, suddenly finding the carpet very interesting. "We need to get into your mindspace, help you figure out what's going on."

"Ah," Good Cop said. "Well. Nothing for it, I suppose."

"I'm glad you agree!" Unikitty said happily. "Now just close your eyes and relax."

Good Cop let his eyes slide shut, and he leaned back against the couch. Unikitty held their hand out to Benny, and he reluctantly took it. They gave Benny's hand a reassuring squeeze, then put the index and middle finger of their free hand against Good Cop's forehead.

Benny shut his eyes.


	8. Chapter 7

_When he opened his eyes, Benny was surprised. He hadn't expected the cops' mindspace to be so… peaceful. He and Unikitty were standing next to Good Cop under a large oak tree, its lower branches worn smooth from years of children clambering over them. Words had been clumsily scratched into the bark just above the thick roots of the tree – "Liam was here," and below it, much messier, "Mal was here." Benny squatted to put his blue-gloved hand to the lettering, then looked out across the flowering meadow. There was a little white cottage in the distance, and Benny could make out a red door and a white picket fence. _

_He'd seen this place before. Bad Cop had shown him pictures of it. This was home. _

_"This isn't so bad," Benny said, straightening up._

_"Benny," Unikitty said behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. There was something off about their tone. Benny turned to look._

_"Holy shit," he breathed._

_There was a towering black monolith of a wall, the sky red and surly above it. At first glance, it seemed impenetrable, but then Benny saw cracks slowly forming at the base, jagged and glowing orange. What looked like lava was seeping out through the gaps._

_"I don't think I like this metaphor," Benny said._

_Good Cop was staring wide-eyed at it. "It wasn't like this earlier. I couldn't find _any_ weaknesses."_

_Benny looked over at Good Cop, and his stomach bottomed out. "Good Cop," he said carefully. "Why don't you just sit down for a minute?"_

_Good Cop gave him a perplexed look, then blinked and put a hand to the left side of his face. His fingers came away covered in the same substance leaking from the wall. The scars on his face were beginning to glow orange, like the cracks. He looked down at himself. The lava was starting to soak through his shirt. Inhaling sharply, he stumbled back, tripping over a root and falling hard. He curled up on his side, hugging himself and gasping as the viscous fluid gradually pooled under him._

_Benny looked at the wall, then at Good Cop, and then back at the wall, and he knew what he had to do. "Unikitty, you stay here and keep an eye on Good Cop," he ordered, and clenched his jaw. "I'm going in."_

_"Wait!" Unikitty shouted, but Benny was already sprinting down the slope of the hill._

_Benny tore across the field, his breathing harsh in his ears, and he skidded to a stop at the foot of the wall, just short of a puddle of the lava. He could feel the heat coming off it. Planting his feet firmly on the ground, he bent his knees, took a deep breath, and shoved away from the ground, rising through the air like a rocket ship. He sped up the side of the wall and came to a stop when he cleared the barbed wire, hanging in the air, and he took in the scene before him._

_"Oh," he said. "No."_

_There was a thick layer of foul smoke below him, backlit by a sullen reddish-orange glow. Yellow light occasionally flickered in the smoke like lightning, accompanied by cracks of thunder. If Benny imagined hell as looking like anything, it would be this._

_Benny felt his earlier resolve waver. The tricky thing about mindspaces was that you couldn't just wander in and out of them like rooms. You were entering the most private of places a person had, and you didn't get in for free. Collateral had to be given, and this meant that you were just as vulnerable as the person whose mindspace it was. _

_If something went wrong, it could leave scars on Benny's psyche as well._

_This was why he hated mindspaces. _

_But he had to do this. Bad Cop was in there somewhere, hurting and alone._

_He steeled himself and dropped like a stone. The smoke puffed outwards in his wake, and it smelled acrid even through the filters of his helmet. _

_Benny landed in a crouch, hitting the ground so hard it left a small crater in the dried and brittle ground. A bit of a dramatic entrance, especially considering no one was watching, but it made him feel tougher. _

_"Bad Cop!" Benny shouted, cupping his hands around the part of the helmet that his mouth was behind. "Hey, Bad!"_

_There was no response. _

_Benny drifted onwards, hovering about a foot off the ground. Grungy fog coiled around the skeletons of burnt-out plants. Out of the corner of his eye, Benny saw a massive dark shape, and he turned to look. It was the same tree he'd appeared under on the other side of the wall, but it was blackened and leafless, its bare branches scratching at the sky like claws. Benny floated up to it and inspected it. There weren't any names carved into the wood at the base, and the bark was sharp and rough. He stepped back and looked around, shading his eyes and squinting into the distance. _

_He thought maybe he could see a house through the haze, and he headed towards it. Once he got closer, it became apparent that this was the same cottage as the one on the other side of the wall, but like the tree, it had become twisted. There was no white paint, and the wooden planks were rotting. Shingles were missing from the roof, and the picket fence was like jagged teeth. The gate was hanging off one hinge, and Benny gingerly pushed it aside and slipped through. The paint on the door might have once been red, but it was peeling away. Hesitantly, Benny gripped the rusting doorknob and pushed. The door swung inward with a long, horror-movie creak, and Benny gulped. It was pitch-black inside and smelled stale, musty, with an unpleasant metallic tang mixed in. _

_Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside._

_Immediately, the floor fell out from under him, and he was falling. He landed hard on a cold tile floor. _

_"I can't do it!" he heard. "They're innocent!"_

_Groaning, he pushed himself upright and looked. He was in Lord Business' office, in the middle of the relic collection. Lord Business was towering in his villain suit over a familiar figure, sneering. There was a house. _The_ house. And the cops' parents were standing in front of it._

_"Just as I thought!" Business said. "Your Good Cop side is making you soft, Bad Cop!"_

_Benny couldn't stand by and watch as Business sent his robots to grab Bad Cop. The spaceman raced forward, punching down the first robot he reached, kicking the next, leaping over the third, and tackling Bad Cop to the ground._

_The scene froze, flickering slightly like a paused VHS tape._

_"B," Benny said, putting one hand on top of Bad Cop's helmet._

_"Ben?" Bad Cop gasped, scrambling back. "What- what are you doing here?"_

_"Getting you out, duh," Benny replied, gesturing at the space around them._

_Bad Cop shook his head frantically. "No. No, I can't. I can't let Good remember. It'll ruin him."_

_Benny got up and hauled Bad Cop to his feet by the front of his shirt. "It's already ruining him!" he shouted. "The wall is breaking, and you're not there to talk him through this! He _needs_ you, B!" When Bad Cop didn't respond, Benny gave him a shake and yelled, "Mal! Liam _needs you_!"_

_Bad Cop went white as a sheet at the name. "How did you…"_

_"I'm in your mindspace!" Benny screamed. He didn't like being here. This was a place of fear, and he could feel his own personal terrors stealing up on him. If they stayed much longer, they could get mixed up. "We need to _go_, Bad!"_

_Bad Cop sagged, resting his forehead on Benny's shoulder. "I need to protect him," he whispered._

_"Well, you gotta find a different way, man," Benny said, his heart beginning to slam a panicked staccato against his ribs. "'Coz this one isn't working out so great." There were black cracks forming at the walls and creeping inward across the floor, and Benny knew those were _his_ cracks. They had to get out of here before the cracks reached them, but he couldn't force Bad Cop out of his own mindspace. _

_"Come on, dude," Benny said, gripping Bad Cop's shoulders. "Any time, now."_

_The cracks were speeding up, the fissures widening, headed straight for the pair. Benny could see the black void beyond them, and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. "Let's go, B," he croaked. "Let's go."_

_Bad Cop straightened up, gritted his teeth. "Okay," he said. Then he saw the cracks, and his jaw dropped._

_It was a split-second of hesitation they couldn't afford to lose. The ground crumbled away under them, and they were falling, falling-_

* * *

Bad Cop awoke with a start, staring up into Unikitty's worried face. "The heck?" he said. What were _they_ doing here?

Unikitty's face went slack, their eyes widening in shock. "Um," they said.

Bad Cop pushed himself to his feet and looked around, a little unsteady. Why did he feel so… small?

Then his eyes landed on the figure huddled shivering on the couch. Heart in his throat, he looked down at himself.

He was wearing spaceship pajamas.

"Oh, fuck," he said.


	9. Chapter 8

_Updates might slow down a bit after this, I've got finals next week and uh. Yeah. Finals._

* * *

Bad Cop could feel Benny panicking in the back of his mind, but before he could make any attempts at reassuring the spaceman, Unikitty interrupted.

"Bad Cop?" they asked.

"Yeah," Bad Cop replied. His voice was still gruff, but it wasn't quite _his_. "Something went wrong when Ben tried to get me out."

"I'll say," Unikitty replied. "I shouldn't have let him go after you alone. He has trouble with mindspaces."

Benny's terror was building up, pressing in on Bad Cop, and it was making his head spin. "I need a moment," Bad Cop said, backing towards the bedroom. "I have to talk to Ben."

Unikitty looked relieved. "So he's still in there!"

Bad Cop nodded before shutting the door. He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. _It's okay, Ben_, he said.

_No,_ Benny gasped. _No, no, no, I'm trapped. I'm trapped, it's dark, I need to get out, Bad, I need to get out-_

_Just relax,_ Bad Cop told him. _I'm going to switch us, okay?_

It was like a blink. Benny was suddenly himself again, and he doubled over, wheezing.

_Breathe, Ben,_ he heard Bad Cop say. _You'll be alright, I promise._

Benny gulped down a deep breath of air, then another, and another, his racing heart slowing as he listened to Bad Cop talk him down.

"Okay," Benny said once he'd regained control. "Okay." He stood up, knees shaking, and crossed to the door. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated a moment before opening it and stepping out. "Unikitty?" he asked.

Unikitty bounced over to him and wrapped their arms around him in a tight hug. "You're okay!"

"Mostly," Benny replied with a weak smile. "It's an interesting experience sharing your head with another person." Prying himself free, he looked over at the couch. "How's Good Cop?"

Unikitty's face fell. "Not so great," they said. "I haven't been able to get him to talk to me. He looks like he's in shock."

Benny approached Good Cop, who was curled tightly in on himself and shaking like a leaf. He knelt down on the floor next to the couch and put a hand to Good Cop's forehead. "Hey, G?" he asked softly.

Good Cop didn't seem to hear Benny, his wide-eyed gaze fixed firmly on some middle distance. His lips were moving slightly, like he was mumbling to himself, but no sound came out.

_What's going on?_ Bad Cop asked.

"I don't know," Benny said. "Good Cop's totally out of it."

_What's he doing?_

"He's just… curled up. Staring. I think he's saying something, but I can't hear." Benny chewed on his lower lip and glanced over at Unikitty.

Worry radiated off Bad Cop, and experiencing two people's emotions at once was throwing Benny for a loop.

"Should we go back in?" Benny asked Unikitty in the kind of tone that was dreading the answer _yes_.

Unikitty shook their head, and Benny felt a bit of relief.

Suddenly, Good Cop's hand clamped down on Benny's wrist, and Benny nearly screamed.

Good Cop pulled himself upright, clinging desperately to Benny. "I can't find him," he said, on the verge of tears. "Where'd he go?"

Benny swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "I've got him," he replied, looking away. "He ended up in my head somehow."

Good Cop grabbed the sides of Benny's head. "I need to talk to him," he said.

Panic overwhelmed Benny at the thought of switching out again, of going back to that non-space, unaware of what was happening unless Bad Cop filled him in. He couldn't do it. He _couldn't._

Good Cop seemed to read this in Benny's face, and his grip tightened. "I've gotta," he said chokingly. "I've gotta talk to him."

_Ben, what's wrong?_ Bad Cop asked, alarmed. _What's happening?_

"Good wants to talk to you," Benny croaked. He wished he could figure out how to speak to Bad Cop internally. "I can't, B. Don't make me switch out. Please."

Good Cop's hold on Benny was starting to hurt. "Then give him back," he pleaded. "Give him back to me!"

"I wish I knew how!" Benny all but wailed.

There was a frozen, terrifying moment where Benny thought Good Cop might actually _injure_ him, then an eerie calm came over the cop, and Good Cop leaned back, smiling serenely.

It unnerved Benny more than anything else that had happened so far. He felt Unikitty come to stand next to him, close against his side.

Good Cop put one arm over the back of the couch and crossed his legs. "Let's you and me talk, then," he said brightly.

"Okay," Benny replied cautiously.

Good Cop drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Let's talk _Business_," he said.

It took a second for Benny to realize Good Cop meant it with a capital B, but when he did he instantly decided he didn't like where this was going. "What about him?" Benny asked warily.

Good Cop tapped at his temple. "I remember everything now," he said. "I don't know why my dear brother thought he could keep it from me. I commend him for trying, though."

Benny could feel Bad Cop burning with questions, but he ignored them. He had to focus.

Good Cop had fixed Benny with a steely gaze that belied his sunny smile. "I wonder, how much did he tell you about what happened to me?"

"He told me enough," Benny whispered.

"Oh, _enough_?" Good Cop stood, almost like he was unfolding himself. Benny was suddenly reminded of how very _tall_ the cops were. "Did he tell you about how I was tied to a chair?" He lifted one hand and pushed back his sleeve to show his wrist. "You can't see the marks any more, but I can still _feel_ the ropes, burning against my skin." He stepped towards Benny, and Benny took a step back, Unikitty clinging to his arm. "Did he tell you about how Business started on my torso, where the scars wouldn't show? Or about how Business talked the whole time, like we were having a conversation over a nice cup of coffee?" Good Cop was still advancing, and Benny kept backing away. "I lost track of time, you know. There wasn't a clock in that room. There was barely _light._ Just Business and pain and _blood_." He trailed a thoughtful finger down one of the scars on his face. "Business sure liked that knife, I must say. He always was a very hands-on person."

Benny's back bumped against the wall. He couldn't go any further, and Good Cop was still coming. Unikitty made a low noise of distress and huddled against him.

Good Cop slammed his hand against the wall next to Benny's head and towered over him. "So what I _really_ want to know," he said quietly, his face inches from Benny's, "is where Business is."

Oh, Benny _definitely _didn't like where this was going. "W-why?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Good Cop leaned in even closer. "I'm a very hands-on person too, you know," he murmured.

Benny's breath hitched, his heartbeat picking up. It wasn't Bad Cop, _it wasn't Bad Cop_- but it was still the same _body_, the one he'd been sleeping beside in a tangle of limbs, spending nights tracing its contours and scars-

As if sensing this crack in Benny's resolve, Good Cop put his other hand to Benny's cheek, cupping it gently. "Come on, Benny-boy," Good Cop said in a low sing-song. "I'll get the information out of you somehow."

Benny shuddered, feeling sick. Distantly, he could hear Bad Cop shouting at him, and he realized that he had to make a decision. What scared him more – taking a backseat, or facing Good Cop?

"Switch," Benny gasped.


	10. Chapter 9

_Benny didn't manage to escape Business' clutches for over 8 years by standing around looking cute._

* * *

A lifetime of experience had taught Bad Cop how to assess the situation mid-switch, how to sift through his counterpart's surface memories in that split-second.

So the instant he was in control, he grabbed the front of Good Cop's shirt and yanked, sliding down at the same time, and Good Cop's face cracked against the wall. Bad Cop scrambled away, dragging Unikitty with him.

Good Cop whirled furiously, one hand over his nose. There was blood leaking between his fingers.

Bad Cop stood to face Good Cop, shielding Unikitty behind him. "The hell do you think you're doing?" he barked.

Relief washed over Good Cop's expression. "Bad," he said, lowering his hand. His nose didn't look broken, but it was banged up pretty badly.

Bad Cop planted his feet firmly in a fighting stance. "I asked you a question," he growled.

The relief became confusion. "What do you mean?" Good Cop asked.

"Just look at yourself, man!" Bad Cop said, gesturing. "Threatening Ben? And I _know_ you're planning on killing Business, and god knows what you're going to do to him first."

Anger darkened Good Cop's features. "Are you going to stop me? After everything he did to us? You're going to just _let him get away with it?_"

Bad Cop bunched his hands into fists. "I've been where you are," he said through gritted teeth. "Trust me. I had him in my hands. I know what you're thinking because I had the same idea. But it's _not the way_."

"Oh, don't tell me you're going to say that it would make us no better than him," Good Cop snapped. "That's so cliché."

"I was not!" Bad Cop said indignantly, then paused. "Okay, maybe I was," he admitted. "But that's beside the point! The point is, I'm a cop and you're planning first-degree murder. So help me, Good, I will arrest you!"

"You'll…" Good Cop's face went slack for a moment, and then he burst out laughing. "You'll _arrest_ me?"

"Yes," Bad Cop said, clenching his jaw. "Arrest you."

"And you think I'm just going to go with you?" Good Cop sneered. "You've never been as good a fighter as me, and you're in a body you're barely used to!"

He had a point. Bad Cop narrowed his eyes. "No," he replied. "But I know someone who is."

_Think you can do this, Ben?_ he asked, mentally packing all the information about the situation into the question.

_I am _so_ ready to get out of here,_ Benny answered. He sounded very angry.

Before Good Cop could think to react, Benny had switched in and lunged. But Good Cop's reflexes were faster than Benny was able to cover the distance, and he caught Benny's fist mid-swing, using the momentum to flip Benny over his shoulder. The idea was to slam Benny into the ground, but gravity was optional for the spaceman, and he used that same momentum to slip upwards out of Good Cop's grip, bumping lightly up against the ceiling instead.

Before Good Cop could get over his surprise, Benny let gravity take full hold of him again, and he dropped onto Good Cop like a sack of potatoes, driving both of them to the ground. Then he was up again, hopping away as Good Cop scrambled back to his feet and took up a fighting stance. There was a tense moment where they regarded each other, Benny hovering so his toes barely brushed the floor and Good Cop baring his teeth.

Good Cop moved first, swinging his fist in on Benny's left. Benny ducked, planted his feet on the floor, and pushed off straight ahead, head-butting Good Cop in the solar plexus with his full weight behind it. He somersaulted off Good Cop's chest as the cop toppled backwards. Good Cop hit the floor, and Benny landed on him again, feet on Good Cop's arms, pinning him to the floor.

"You have the right to remain silent," Benny said, crouching over Good Cop. "Anything you say-"

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me," Good Cop wheezed, and he hauled his arms upwards, throwing Benny off.

Benny flipped up into the air, regaining his balance. As Good Cop was struggling upright, Benny did a roundhouse kick into the side of Good Cop's head. His glasses were flung off, skittering along the floor, and Good Cop hit the ground on his side, hard.

Benny perched on him again. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have-"

Good Cop made another attempt at tossing Benny away, but it was feeble.

"Dang," Benny said. "You are one tough nugget. Hey, Unikitty, mind grabbing the handcuffs? They should be on the nightstand."

Unikitty nodded and hurried to get them. Benny gave Good Cop a shove with his foot, rolling the cop onto his stomach. Good Cop spat blood out onto the floor. "You're surprisingly ruthless," he rasped.

"You haven't seen me on a bad day," Benny said in a dangerously cheerful tone. Unikitty returned with the handcuffs and handed them to him.

Benny pulled Good Cop's arms behind him and clapped the cuffs on. "You have the right to speak to an attorney," he continued as he hauled Good Cop to his feet.

"Stuff it, kid," Good Cop snapped. "I know the Miranda Rights, okay?"

"Great!" Benny said. "I'll read you the Benjamin Rights, then."

"What?" Good Cop began, but Benny brought his elbow down on Good Cop's head, and the cop crumpled to the floor, out cold.

_That was police brutality,_ Bad Cop said reproachfully.

"I'm off-duty," Benny replied, and then all the energy drained out of him. He sagged onto the couch and put a hand to his forehead. "Please tell me this is weird behavior for him."

There was a troubling silence. Reluctantly, Bad Cop said, _I was afraid this would happen._

Benny threw his head back against the couch. "Aw, what?" he moaned.

_Of the two of us…_ Bad Cop hesitated._ He's the one with real anger issues._

"Isn't he supposed to be _Good_ Cop?"

_It's more complicated than that, Ben. _Bad Cop sighed. _He's the friendly one. He's good with people. He _likes_ people. Me… Not so much. There's ways we balance each other out, but we're two different individuals. We don't balance perfectly. I'm… not even really sure how we happened._

Benny could tell this was hard for Bad Cop to talk about. It was likely he'd never fully explained it before.

_He _is_ Good Cop,_ Bad Cop continued. _But he has his limits. Limits that are very hard to reach, but limits nonetheless. And if you push him past them…_

"He goes psycho-killer?" Benny said.

_Well… I mean, this has only happened once before, but not quite so…_

"Psycho-killer?"

_Benjamin._

"Sorry. What happened last time?"

_It was in secondary school. We were…_ Bad Cop paused and made a grumbling sound. _We were bullied a lot,_ he admitted reluctantly. _I was always getting into fights. Then one time I took on an upperclassman much bigger than me. I lost that one _really_ badly, could barely see straight. Then Good switched in and… well, we ended up having company on our way to the hospital._

The story was accompanied by images and emotions. A sneering teenager in a school uniform. Benny could taste a ghost of blood on his tongue, could feel a phantom pain in his ribs. There was fear, a _lot _of fear, coupled with the conviction of imminent death. Then the images went black and there was suffocating rage that wasn't Bad Cop's.

"Oh." Benny said when Bad Cop was done.

_Yeah. Oh._

Benny let out a long groan. "Is there, like, an off switch or something?"

_Seriously?_

Benny held his hands up. "Just askin'."

Unikitty settled onto the couch next to Benny, and he jumped a little. He'd almost forgotten they were there.

"So, what are we doing?" they asked.

Benny sighed and looked at Good Cop's unconscious form on the floor.

"I guess we should probably get this guy down to the station," he said.


	11. Chapter 10

_This one's short oops_._ But I've actually got the next few chapters plotted out so things should be getting good!_

* * *

Benny drove. As a courtesy to Bad Cop, he'd grabbed the aviators off the bureau in the bedroom before assisting Unikitty in dragging Good Cop down to the parking garage. Unikitty was very strong for their size, and did most of the heavy lifting. Benny mainly ended up just opening doors for them, explaining what Bad Cop had told him along the way. They wrestled Good Cop into the back seat, and Benny began the drive to the station, Unikitty riding shotgun.

After a few moments of cruising in silence, Benny said, "I'm sorry about beating on your bro, dude."

_It wasn't like we had a lot of options,_ Bad Cop replied.

Benny made a dissatisfied sound and went quiet again.

Unikitty spoke suddenly. "Benny," they said. "What actually happened in the cops' mindspace?"

Benny's grip tightened on the wheel. "I kinda freaked," he replied. "Accidentally brought some of my own issues along." He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, and was surprised to see they actually looked _guilty._

"I shouldn't have let you go alone," Unikitty said miserably. "I'm so sorry, Benny."

"Please don't be," Benny said, putting a hand on their head. "It's not your fault."

But Unikitty's ears drooped, and their shoulders slumped. They sniffled.

"Oh no, don't cry," Benny said desperately, petting their pink hair as it began to fade to a drab grey. "It's gonna work out, yeah?" And idea struck him. "Hey, you know what? I know Jenkins always keeps a stash of candy in her desk. I'm sure she'll let you have some when we get to the station!"

Unikitty brightened up at that. "Really?" they exclaimed, shooting off a couple of stars. Benny ducked a little to avoid being hit by one.

"Really," he said with relief.

_Well, they're easy to appease,_ Bad Cop said dryly.

Benny opted not to reply.

* * *

Jenkins sat at her desk, chin propped up on her hand, trying not to fall asleep. There were only a few other officers here – this late at night, the precinct was practically a ghost town. She covered her mouth as she yawned. There was a report on the desk in front of her, but every time she tried to read it, the words started blurring together. Since Bad Cop had been hospitalized, she'd been covering for him, which meant she'd been here since… eight in the morning? What time was it now?

She glanced at her watch and groaned when she saw it was pushing midnight. Her mind kept wandering back to when she'd called Benny. The deputy had sounded… odd. She tapped her pen idly on the desk and considered, not for the first time, going over to Bad Cop's apartment and checking in.

The station doors slammed open, and she was startled out of her reverie. It was Benny, Bad Cop, and a weird unicorn… cat… person.

Jenkins hurried out from behind her desk, tripping over a trashcan as she went. The uni-cat-person was practically carrying Bad Cop, with Benny supporting the other side. Bad Cop looked like he'd been in a fight and lost badly. "What's going on?" she asked and she drew up to them.

Benny looked relieved to see her. "I'll explain in a minute, JJ," he said. "Can you get some of your candy for Unikitty and meet us in the holding cells?"

"_Princess_ Unikitty?" Jenkins asked, staring at the small, brightly dressed person holding up Bad Cop like it was nothing even though he was nearly twice their size.

"The one and only!" they replied cheerfully.

"Um," Jenkins said.

Bad Cop groaned, head lolling, and Benny looked alarmed. "Quickly, if you don't mind," he said, starting to push Bad Cop and Unikitty in the direction of the holding cells.

When Jenkins still didn't move, completely baffled by the situation, Benny's face formed into a strangely familiar scowl, and he barked, "That's an _order_, Jenkins!"

Purely on reflex, Jenkins snapped to attention and spun around, hurrying back to her desk. She rummaged through the drawers for a second, grabbed a box of chocolate covered raisins, and then sprinted after the trio.

By the time she got to the holding cells, Benny and Unikitty had already laid Bad Cop out on a cot, and were proceeding to lock the cell they'd left him in.

"Wait," Jenkins said, absently handing the candy to Unikitty, who tore into it with glee. "Is Bad Cop under arrest?"

"How much do you want me to tell her?" Benny murmured, seemingly to himself. There was a moment's pause, then he looked at her. "It's a bit of a long story," he said. "You might want to sit down."


	12. Chapter 11

_mydailytumbles wrote a thing for this story! go read it now. (this chapter actually refers to it!) it's on their tumblr at post/87668926815/bruises. curse this site and its hatred of links.  
_

* * *

Good Cop woke up slowly. Everything hurt. He became aware of a nearby conversation.

"Wow," an unfamiliar female voice was saying. "That's, uh… Wow."

"Yeah," was the reply, and Good Cop realized that was Benny.

There was an awkward silence, and Good Cop's head pounded. He groaned, shifting on the uncomfortable surface, and cracked his eyes open. A drab, grey ceiling swam into focus. He tried to lift his left hand and put it to his forehead, but only made it a few inches before his wrist was jerked to a stop.

"He's awake!" he heard Benny say.

Good Cop turned his head to the side in time to see Benny scramble to his feet. There was a baffled-looking woman sitting in a chair, with Princess Unikitty curled up in cat form on her lap.

There were bars between him and the trio.

He looked down. He was lying on a cot, handcuffed to the side of it.

"Good Cop?" Benny said cautiously.

Good Cop struggled to sit up, pressing his free hand against his head. "What the hell?" he said. "Am I in prison?"

"Well, technically you're in a holding cell," Benny replied nervously, looking away.

Then Good Cop remembered. The wall, Bad Cop, Benny, _Business_. He jerked upright despite the pain and yanked on the cuffs. "Let me _out_," he snarled.

Benny took a step back and sat down again, taking up as little space as possible on the chair. He glanced over and Jenkins and Unikitty. _Is he still mad?_ Bad Cop asked.

Benny made a sound to the affirmative.

_Let me talk to him._

Benny's throat tightened. Last time he'd let Bad Cop switch in to talk to Good Cop, the darkness had panicked him. It was such a closed-off space. Suffocating. He'd felt trapped, claustrophobic. Part of the reason he'd been so vicious fighting Good Cop was because he was still shaking and scared and had needed an outlet. He didn't want to go back in for a third time.

_Ben_, Bad Cop said. _I need to talk to him._

Benny knew that. He really did. This was important. But he just _couldn't_.

Then he met Good Cop's gaze. It was angry and dark, darker than that space. He remembered _why_ he'd let Bad Cop switch in last time.

"You're talking to him, aren't you?" Good Cop asked, his voice dangerously low.

Benny swallowed. "Yeah," he whispered.

Good Cop tried to stand, but the cuffs snapped him back. "Let him out," he growled.

Benny closed his eyes.

_I'm really sorry, Ben,_ Bad Cop said. _But I gotta do this. I don't want to force you to switch out. Please._

"Okay," Benny made himself say, even though he felt he might throw up. "Do it."

Bad Cop switched in. He could feel Benny struggling to stay calm in the back of his head.

Good Cop saw the change, and he tensed even more, pulling the chain of the handcuffs taut. "I don't understand," he said. "Why are you trying to stop me?"

Bad Cop pulled his chair up to the bars and turned it around, straddling it. He was silent for a moment, considering how to answer, and then said, "Remember Riley?"

Good Cop's expression darkened. "I remember."

"He was a real git," Bad Cop said, folding his arms over the back of the chair. "How many pairs of our glasses do you reckon he broke?"

Good Cop let out a small, humorless laugh. "Too many to count."

Bad Cop looked his counterpart dead in the eye. "And how many of his _bones_ do you reckon _you_ broke?"

That drew Good Cop up short. He swallowed.

"When I went to find you in our mindspace afterwards, you told me you were afraid of yourself," Bad Cop continued. "You were ready to shut yourself in permanently. If only you could see yourself _now_."

Good Cop looked down, his brow furrowed. "This is different," he said hoarsely. "Business-"

"Is a bully," Bad Cop interrupted. "He's Riley all over again, but worse because we're adults now. I wish we'd realized it sooner."

It was strange, seeing his own face from the outside, watching as emotions warred with each other on it. He stood up, unlocked the cell door and went inside, sitting down on the cot beside his brother. Good Cop's head was bowed, still preoccupied with some inner battle.

Bad Cop reached into Benny's pocket and pulled out Good Cop's cracked glasses. "Liam," he said, holding them out. "You're the good Copp."

The corner of Good Cop's mouth twitched up in a sad smile at the echo of Bad Cop's words from all those years ago. "I don't feel 'good'," he said, repeating his own response.

Suddenly, Bad Cop thwacked Good Cop upside the head. Good Cop yelped in shock. "What the-"

"Now put on yer darn glasses," Bad Cop said, shoving the glasses under Good Cop's nose, "and quit it with the sniveling. This ain't about a trip down memory lane, this is about getting you to stop being such a darn eedjit. Now pull yourself together, man, and we'll see about getting you some ice for those bruises."

"Wow," Good Cop said dryly. "You sure know how to comfort a guy." But there were the weak beginnings of a smile on his face, and he took the glasses and slid them on, careful of his battered nose.

"Jenkins!" Bad Cop barked, and the young woman jumped in surprise, startling Unikitty off her lap.

"Sir?" she asked.

"Go get the first-aid kit and an ice pack from the freezer," he said. "And make it snappy."

Jenkins leapt to her feet and hurried away, Unikitty bounding after her.

_Is it over?_ Benny asked desperately. _Can I come out now?_

Bad Cop didn't bother to respond, just switched Benny in. Benny leaned over and put his head between his knees, sucking in huge gulps of air.

"Benny?" Good Cop asked cautiously.

"Just a sec," Benny gasped. "Lemme just…" He inhaled deeply, straightening up, and let out a long exhale. "Okay," he said, staring straight ahead. "I'm good."

"Benny, I," Good Cop began haltingly. "I'm sorry. About how I treated you earlier. I shouldn't have- shouldn't've let myself take my anger out on you."

"It's good, man," Benny said, clapping Good Cop on the shoulder, and Good Cop winced in pain. "I got to beat the snot out of you, so I guess we're even."

Good Cop chuckled a little, but looked miserable despite it. "So much for first impressions."

"Second, really," Benny replied, unlocking the cuffs that held Good Cop to the cot. "We got along alright in the hospital."

Good Cop gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. "You're very forgiving."

Benny looked down at his hands. "You really scared the shit out of me, dude. I haven't quite forgiven you yet." He glanced at Good Cop. "But I want to. So I act like I have."

Good Cop considered the spaceman. "You're a very interesting person," he said. "I can see why he likes you."

Benny ducked his head and smiled, his ears turning red.

"Hey, uh, guys?" said a voice hesitantly from the doorway.

Both of them looked over. It was Jenkins, holding the first aid kit, ice pack, and a reddening Unikitty in her arms. Beside her was Emmet. And beside _him_ was Business.

"We've got a bit of a problem," Jenkins said.


	13. Chapter 12

Good Cop was on his feet in a flash and headed straight for Business, but Benny was a split second behind him and managed to snag Good Cop by the back of the shirt just a few feet away from the former overlord. Business took an instinctive step back, and Emmet placed himself protectively in front of him.

"Let me at him!" Good Cop snarled, straining against Benny's grip.

Benny dug his heels in. "I thought we _just_ had this discussion!" he wailed.

_What's going on?_ Bad Cop asked worriedly.

"Business is here and your brother's going back into murder mode!" Benny yelled over Good Cop's furious shouting.

_Oh for the love of- Stop him, will you?_

"What do you think I'm trying to _do_?" Benny howled, hauling back on Good Cop.

Emmet was shouting now, too, trying to keep Business from running while simultaneously trying to figure out what was happening. Jenkins had stepped back a ways, having dropped the supplies, and was now clinging to Unikitty, who had gone completely scarlet and was trying to join the fight. It was complete chaos, and the few other officers still at the station were starting to edge closer curiously.

Then someone screamed, "_Enough!_"

Everyone froze. All heads turned to Jenkins.

She looked absolutely livid, holding Unikitty away from her by the scruff of their neck. "I have not slept in nearly eighteen hours!" she shouted. "And I've spent _all_ _day_ filling in for Bad Cop! Do you know how _hard_ his job is? No wonder he's always angry! Now you guys are coming in here with your weird mindspace shenanigans and personal vendettas and who knows what else!" She jabbed a finger in their direction. "Emmet and Business are here to file a report and we are _cops_ so let's all sit down and _do our fucking jobs like reasonable adults!_"

This was met with stunned silence. She stood there with her chest heaving, glaring at them. But as the silence stretched on, she grew uncomfortable under the wide-eyed stares. "Um," she said after a moment, lowering Unikitty, who was dangling limply in her grip. "Sorry. I haven't had a good day."

It was if a collective breath was let out. The tension in the air eased, and everyone began to relax. Good Cop was still wound tight, but he wasn't trying to get at Business anymore.

Benny was the first to speak. "A report?" he asked, looking at Emmet and Business. He hadn't let go of Good Cop yet.

Emmet nodded wordlessly. Business was still trying to hide from Good Cop's glare behind the construction worker.

"Suspicious activity," Jenkins said, placing Unikitty gently on the floor. "We should go sit down and do this properly."

"Yeah," Benny agreed, then said to Good Cop, "Maybe you'd better stay here, G. You could probably use some rest."

Good Cop closed his eyes. "I am a bit sore."

"Business is the one who's reporting it," Emmet said. "I can stay, help you patch up. You look like you could use the help."

"That's a great idea," Benny said, pulling Good Cop back towards the cell. "I hope you don't mind if we lock the door, just in case."

"It's fine," Emmet replied, scooping up the kit and ice pack Jenkins had dropped.

Benny made Good Cop sit down on the cot, and Emmet sat beside him. Good Cop still hadn't taken his eyes off Business. Benny locked the cell door and ushered everyone out of the holding cell area. As they left, Benny heard Emmet ask, "So how come you're wearing Good Cop's glasses?"

Benny led the group into Bad Cop's office and sat down behind the desk. Jenkins sank into one of the other chairs, and Unikitty hopped back onto her lap. Business stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room.

"So," Benny said. "Suspicious activity?"

"Yeah," Business said, fiddling with the end of his tie. "I actually, uh, wasn't going to come to the station originally. I went to tell Emmet instead, but he…" He seemed reluctant to continue.

Benny raised his eyebrows at him.

"He told me not to be a weenie and made me come here," Business admitted.

Benny let out a snort of laughter.

Business looked down. "I really am truly sorry for what I did to them," he said quietly.

The amusement vanished from Benny's face. "We're not here to talk about that right now," he said. "And I'm not the one you should be telling this to anyway. We're here to talk about official bus-" He stopped, struggled to think of a different word. "Official stuff."

Business smirked, and Benny glared at him. "Alright, alright," Business said, lifting his hands in concession. "It's actually been going on for a little over a week, though I didn't really think much of it at first. Lately, I've been helping Emmet supervise some of the construction sites, and I started noticing some weird people hanging around. Emmet probably didn't notice because he's so focused on work, and he's just not that great at spotting stuff sometimes. But I'm a bit more obsessive than he is."

"A bit?" Benny asked dryly.

Business rolled his eyes at him. "At first I just thought they were just curious onlookers, but I started seeing the same ones at different sites all over town. Now they've started taking pictures. I chase them off when I see them, but it's just too weird."

Benny folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "That _is_ suspicious," he said. "Sounds like it could be the Duplos. They like targeting the construction sites."

Business nodded. "That's what I thought."

Benny pinched the bridge of his nose, then put his hand over his mouth. "What do you think, B?"

Bad Cop made a contemplative sound. _Put Jenkins on it,_ he said after a moment. _She's familiar with a lot of the construction workers since she directed cleaning up the stations_.

"She's running on empty," Benny murmured, looking over at where Jenkins was struggling not to nod off where she sat.

_She can start in the morning, then_.

Benny sighed. "Jenkins?" he asked.

She snapped awake. "I wasn't sleeping!"

"We want you to investigate this," Benny said.

Jenkins looked completely crestfallen. "Sir-"

"It's okay," Benny interrupted. "Just gather up the files on past attacks on construction sites and go home and get some sleep. You can pick it up in the morning."

Relief washed over Jenkins' face. "Yes, sir," she said, lifting Unikitty off her lap and placing them on the floor. She stood up, crossed the office, nearly opened the door into her face, stepped out, and was gone.

Benny returned his attention to Business. "Anything else?"

Business looked down. "I suppose it would be out of the question to talk to Bad Cop…?"

"I don't think he's in the mood to listen," Benny replied. "Come back when he's less angry."

Business gave Benny a hopeful look. "When do you think that will be?"

Benny gave him a flat look. "How would I know?"

Business looked away in disappointment, and Benny sighed. "Look," Benny said. "He'll come to you when he's ready, alright? You'll have to be patient."

Business ran a hand through his hair. "I've never been very good at that."

"Well, you're going to have to learn," Benny replied, standing up and crossing to the door. "If that's everything, you wait outside, and I'll go get Emmet."

Business nodded, and Benny held the door open for him as he walked out. Benny closed the door behind him and made his way back to the holding cells, Unikitty trailing on his heels.

Emmet and Good Cop were still sitting beside each other, with Emmet in the process of packing up the first-aid kit. Good Cop's nose had been bandaged, and he was holding the ice pack to where Benny had kicked him in the head. They looked up as Benny entered.

"We're all done here," Benny said, unlocking the cell door. "Business is out front."

Emmet stood up and held out his hand to Good Cop. "It's nice to have met you on better terms this time," he said.

Good Cop smiled weakly as he shook Emmet's hand. "It sure is, buddy."

"Alrighty, then!" Emmet said cheerfully. "See you later, alligators!" He gave them a two-fingered salute and disappeared out the door.

Good Cop leaned back against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. "What a day," he murmured, lowering the ice to the cot beside him.

"You look like you could use some sleep," Benny said.

"I think you're right," Good Cop replied. He eased himself onto his side and tried to fluff up the pathetic excuse for a pillow as best he could. "Sleep sounds really good right now." Within moments, his breathing had evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Benny looked down at Unikitty. "Mind keeping an eye on him?" he asked.

"Nope!" they replied. "I'm on it." They trotted into the cell and hopped up onto the cot, curling up beside Good Cop.

"Alright," Benny said, running a hand through his hair. "Okay." He walked back to Bad Cop's office and sagged into the chair behind the desk.

_Ben, I need to talk to you,_ Bad Cop said.

"We're talkin' right now, dude," Benny replied, leaning back.

_I mean face-to-face_.

Benny sat up at that. "Like… mindspace?"

_Yes_.

Benny swallowed. "Do we really, uh, gotta?"

_Benjamin,_ Bad Cop said. _There are a few issues we need to sort out if we're going to be sharing a body for the foreseeable future. The main one is your apparent problem with mindspaces. _

Benny wanted to tell him to lay off, but that would be childish and counterproductive. It was true. The way they were working together now, Bad Cop couldn't get five minutes in without Benny having a panic attack. Bad Cop was the Chief of Police, and he had a job to do. Benny was just his deputy. He didn't have the authority or even the know-how, and being Bad Cop's mouthpiece would be clumsy and awkward.

Benny had barged into Bad Cop's mindspace, and without complete permission, at that. That was why they were in this situation, wasn't it? And Bad Cop had told Benny some pretty deep stuff about himself, and Benny hadn't really opened up in return.

He supposed it was time to do a bit of sharing. "Alright," he said reluctantly.

Bad Cop was relieved. _Thank you, Ben._

"Yeah, yeah," Benny muttered, closing his eyes. "See you on the other side."


	14. Chapter 13

warning for mention of suicide ideation

* * *

_Bad Cop's first impression was that it was cold. Very cold. He opened his eyes. _

_The vast expanse of space stretched out in front of him. The tiny white pinpricks of stars were icy and aloof. He looked around, and realized he was standing on an asteroid at the far edge of a belt. As he took a step forward, his foot clattered against something, and he looked down. It was… a mop? He bent over and picked it up, examining it. There didn't seem to be anything particularly special about it. It was just a mop. _

_"Oh!" Benny said, suddenly beside him. "I'll, uh. I'll take that."_

_Bad Cop held it out wordlessly, and Benny grabbed it and held it behind himself, like he was trying to hide an embarrassing secret. _

_"Um," Benny said, scuffing at the rock with the toe of his boot and looking around nervously. "Welcome to my mindspace, I guess."_

_"Do you mind if I ask what's with the mop?" Bad Cop asked, pointing at it as Benny continued his poor attempt at concealing it._

_"Oh, uh, this?" Benny said as if he'd only just noticed it was there. He made a 'casual' gesture with it. "It's no big, really. Just a bit of flotsam."_

_"A mop?" Bad Cop said skeptically. "In _space_?"_

_Benny shrugged, resolutely not meeting Bad Cop's eyes. "You find all sorts of weird stuff out here."_

_"Uh-huh," Bad Cop said, drawing out the syllables. But it seemed Benny was determined to stop this particular discussion before it started, so Bad Cop decided let it go for the moment. "Ben-"he began, but Benny cut him off._

_"I'm sorry about all this," he said, looking down gripping the mop like a lifeline. "I'm sorry I messed up in your mindspace and now you can't help Good Cop the way he needs your help. I'm sorry I can't deal with taking a backseat for more than five minutes without having a panic attack. I just-"_

_Benny was starting to shake now, and Bad Cop realized that the crack at the base of his helmet was slowly starting to grow, forming jagged lines up the yellow glass of the visor. He could hear Benny gasping for air, as if he were running out of oxygen. Hurriedly, Bad Cop closed the space between them and gripped Benny's shoulders. "Look at me, Ben," he said. When Benny didn't respond, Bad Cop put his hand on top of the helmet and tilted the spaceman's head back so Benny was forced to meet his gaze. _

_"Now listen to me," Bad Cop said, resting his forehead against the visor. "You don't need to apologize. It's not your fault."_

_Benny shook his head, and Bad Cop grabbed the sides of the helmet, pressing his face against the visor. "Deputy Benjamin Blue Chu," he said, glaring Benny down. "Do not make me pull the commanding officer card."_

_Benny's face twitched with some inner conflict, and then a tiny snort of laughter escaped him. Bad Cop narrowed his eyes, but this just seemed to amuse Benny even more. "Care to fill me in on the joke?" Bad Cop growled, and Benny totally lost it, putting his hands on either side of Bad Cop's face and laughing hysterically._

_"Oh my god," Benny wheezed. "My spaceships for a camera."_

_Bad Cop tried to step back, but Benny was still clinging to him, and the spaceman floated up to keep his visor against Bad Cop's face. Bad Cop began to protest, and Benny was in stitches._

_"I don't think you understand just how friggin' ridiculous you look, dude," Benny managed to say around his giggles._

_Then Bad Cop realized what it was. His face, mushed against the glass that was barely inches from Benny's face. "Oh for the love of-" He struggled to escape Benny's grasp and only succeeded in losing his footing. But instead of hitting the ground like he expected to, he simply floated weightlessly a few feet above the asteroid, Benny still attached to him. Finally, Benny let Bad Cop un-stick his face from the visor, and Bad Cop looked up at him. Benny was grinning, even as tears welled up in his eyes. _

_"I'll tell you about the mop," Benny said, his voice cracking and his smile breaking. _

_"Alright, Ben," Bad Cop said softly, holding onto Benny as the spaceman lightly brought them back down to the asteroid. "Tell me about the mop."_

_Benny drifted over to where he'd dropped the mop and scooped it up, brushing a patch of dust off the handle. "I told you when we first met that you gave me the crack in my helmet."_

_"Yeah," Bad Cop replied slowly._

_"I lied," Benny said, examining the mop for more dirty spots._

_Bad Cop's eyebrows drew together. "Why?"_

_Benny shrugged, attention firmly fixed on the mop. "To remind you that you'd hit me in the face? I don't know. Talking about what really happened is hard. I lie about it a lot." He sat down, cross-legged, and laid the mop across his lap. "It happened a long time before we fought each other. I wasn't even a Master Builder yet."_

_Bad Cop walked over and sat down opposite him. "What does this have to do with the mop?"_

_Benny ran his gloved hand over the smooth wood of the handle. "I crashed out here," he said after a while. "My ship got totally wrecked." He pointed upwards, and Bad Cop followed his finger to look up at the asteroid above and to the left of them. There were the crumpled ruins of a spaceship strewn across the surface of it. Bad Cop swallowed._

_"My helmet got broken," Benny continued, almost _petting_ the mop. "I didn't run out of oxygen right away. It was slow. I didn't even realize I was losing air at first. My tank had still been full. I thought I had more time to do repairs than I actually did. And I really did try doing repairs, but, _damn_. Look at that mess."_

_"You're a Master Builder," Bad Cop said. "You can fix anything."_

_Benny shook his head sadly. "I told you, man," he said. "I wasn't a Master Builder then. And that's not something I could've repaired without being one, highly trained as I was." He fell silent for a few moments, playing with the tangled rope at the end of the mop. "Then I started to feel it. I don't know how long I'd been out here already. I was so alone. I'd given up on trying to fix the ship. Then I noticed I was starting to feel light-headed. I knew what was happening, and I knew how it was going to end. I'm an astronaut. One of the first things we learn is that there's the possibility of dying in space. And I used to think I'd be fine with that, because space is beautiful." He choked up, and rubbed his hand over his visor because he couldn't reach his eyes to wipe the tears away. "But space is _cold_," he continued haltingly. "And it's empty and lonely. And I knew I was going to die slowly, and it terrified me. It terrified me. I thought about ending it quickly, but I couldn't, because I was still clinging onto some tiny ridiculous hope that maybe someone would find me before my air ran out."_

_Bad Cop's mouth went dry at the idea of Benny contemplating suicide. "But it paid off," he said hoarsely. "You were rescued."_

_"No," Benny said, the word catching in his throat. "No one ever found me. I found this mop, though." He gestured to the object. "He- it was in my ship. One of the few things that didn't get broken. And I was so- I was so alone. I named him. Moppy." He gave Bad Cop a watery smile. "Creative, right? I didn't have much in the way of brainpower. We had some pretty deep philosophical conversations, I think. I can't remember so well anymore. I came so close to dying. So close. But I had an epiphany. About life, the universe, everything. And suddenly I could see it all. All the little bits of the wreckage, all the pieces of my spaceship. I could see how to put it all together, to fix it just enough to get home. And I did it. I made it. I crashed outside our base, half-dead. The others brought me inside, brought me back." He gave a humorless laugh and buried his head in his hands. "Most people put so much training and effort and desire into becoming Master Builders. It takes some people their whole life. And I didn't even _mean_ to become one. Turns out all you gotta do is die."_

_Benny was shaking, trembling like a leaf, and Bad Cop had never felt so useless in his life. Tentatively, he reached out and put his hand on Benny's knee. Benny grabbed it, lacing his gloved fingers through Bad Cop's bare ones._

_"I'm sorry, B," Benny gasped, shudders wracking his body. "That's why I'm so scared of mindspaces. Because this is mine. Because part of me is still on this asteroid. Lost and cold and alone. Talking to a damn _mop_ to escape that reality. And every time I take a backseat to you, it's just so _dark_ and it's like being back here again, trapped-"_

_He was interrupted as Bad Cop suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. "No, Ben, no," Bad Cop murmured. "Oh, Ben, don't be sorry._

_Benny clung to Bad Cop like a lifeline, sobbing and heaving, and Bad Cop held him and rocked him gently. "You're not alone anymore, Ben," Bad Cop said softly, wishing he could run his hands through Benny's hair, wipe the spaceman's tears away. "I'm here. And I promise, I _promise_ you'll never be alone again."_

_Benny was still shivering, but his breathing was beginning to calm, and he curled up against Bad Cop. "Listen," Bad Cop said, putting one hand under Benny's chin and tilting the spaceman's head up. "When we switch, you're not alone in there. We're sharing a head. I know it's cut off, but I think I have a sol-"_

And then an explosion threw Benny sideways off the chair.


	15. Chapter 14

_oops it's short sorry_

* * *

He slammed to the floor, the air driven out of his lungs. Pieces of the office's outer wall rained down around him, and the smoke and plaster dust was choking. He scrabbled at the desk, struggling to pull himself upright. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Bad Cop's frantic questions.

Benny staggered over to the gaping hole in the wall between Bad Cop's office and the rest of the station, and he looked out.

The blast had caved in the ceiling and reduced the desks to kindling. Computers were strewn about, shattered, twisted, melted. Burning scraps of paper slowly fluttered to the floor. The acrid stench of smoke grew stronger, and Benny pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose, wishing he'd remembered to grab his helmet when they left the apartment.

_What is going_ on_? _Bad Cop shouted.

"Bomb," Benny croaked, stumbling through the wreckage towards the holding cell.

_A _bomb_?_

There was a groan off to his left, and Benny ignored Bad Cop, instead making his way towards the sound. One of the officers lay on the floor, her arm pinned below a fallen piece of the ceiling. Benny recognized her and quickly sifted through his mental roster. "Amanda!" he said over the crackling flames, crouching down next to her to examine the I-beam pinning her down.

"Deputy Chu," she coughed. "You gotta go."

"We need to free you first," Benny said, contemplating the best way to lift the metal bar.

She shook her head, stopping him with her free hand. "Duplos here," she wheezed. "Headed for the holding cells."

Benny froze. "What?"

Then he heard Unikitty begin to scream in rage. He shot to his feet, then looked down at Amanda. She nodded. "I'll be fine f-for now."

Benny clenched his fists, planted his foot firmly on a piece of rubble, and pushed off, launching himself through the smoke towards the holding cell area. The wall had completely collapsed, and the bars of the cell that Good Cop had been in were twisted and mangled. There was blood spattered across the floor in a trail that led to Unikitty in their human form, pinned on their back to the floor by a length of rebar driven through their right shoulder and into the concrete. They were struggling to pull the metal bar free, completely scarlet with anger. The noise coming out of them had less to do with pain and more to do with unadulterated fury. Benny rushed over and knelt beside them, and recognition crossed their face.

"They took him," Unikitty snarled, giving the rebar another violent tug. "They took Good Cop."

Benny grabbed their wrist to stop them from making the wound worse and looked around. There was a hole in the far wall, leading into the alley outside, and no sign of Good Cop.

Unikitty was beginning to come back to themself, and their wrath gave way to pained keening. "I'm sorry," she wailed, the scarlet fading to a muted pink. "I tried to stop them, but they took me by surprise!"

"Shh, it's okay," Benny murmured, stroking their hair. "Just relax, and I'll get you out of here, alright?"

Unikitty whimpered, eyes watering as they nodded. Sirens wailed outside, and within moments the wrecked station was flooded with firefighters and EMTs. Benny found himself being manhandled away, his attention torn between his desire to not be separated from Unikitty, Bad Cop's frantic questioning, and the shouting of the people all around him. Everything became a blur, and he found himself sitting in the back of an ambulance, and shock blanket draped around his shoulders as he answered an EMT's questions. Then he was in the hospital, sitting beside Unikitty's bed as they drowsed fitfully, Bad Cop fuming in the back of his head.

Good Cop had been abducted by the Duplos. To what end, neither he nor Bad Cop could be sure. And he'd been right under their noses. In the station, which was supposed to be the safest place in the city. They hadn't done their jobs right, and now Good Cop was paying the price. Unikitty, too.

Benny clenched his hands in his lap, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Unikitty groaned, shifting uncomfortably, and Benny's expression hardened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone (an old, out-of-date piece of junk), and dialed a number.

After a few rings, a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

"Jenkins," Benny said. "Sorry about this, but I'm gonna need you to come to the hospital as fast as you can. And pick up Emmet on your way."


	16. Chapter 15

_poor good cop keeps getting knocked around dude just can't get a break_

* * *

Good Cop groaned, his head lolling to the side. His arms ached. He was sitting upright, but he couldn't move. Suddenly, he became very aware of rope around his wrists, tied behind the back of the chair, and he was instantly awake. For a second, the image of a dark, concrete room overlaid his actual surroundings, but he blinked, and it cleared. The room he was in wasn't dark at all. It was brightly lit, but not so bright as to be harsh. It was clean and clinical, but not so much as to be sterile and cold. Friendly wasn't the right way to describe it, but it certainly wasn't intimidating.

But all of this was secondary observation, because the primary thing that demanded his attention was the young man sitting straight-backed on the table a few feet away, hands folded in his lap with one leg crossed demurely over the other. The first descriptive word that popped into Good Cop's head was _royalty_. The man wasn't dressed lavishly, but it had a certain regality about it. He wore a long-sleeved powder-blue shirt under a darker blue vest with gold chains across it to hold it shut, which gave way to a long, blue, silky skirt, which ended just above a pair of black leather boots. He was smiling thinly at Good Cop. "Glad to see you're awake," he said, and damn, but this man had _class_. His accent plucked on Good Cop's country boy origins, pulling to the surface an insecurity the cop had thought long dead – hick from the sticks in a big city full of modern people.

"Where the hell am I?" Good Cop spat, shoving the feeling back down.

The man feigned a pout. "You don't recognize me? After all the time you've spent hunting me? I'm hurt, Bad Cop. I thought we had something special."

It took Good Cop a few moments to process this. Cautiously, he asked, "Kinzel?"

The leader of the Duplos clapped his hands together theatrically. "Aw, you _do_ remember me!"

Good Cop knew who he was now. Bad Cop had spent hours poring over reports, sitting on stakeouts, and leading raids on Duplo hideouts in the hopes of capturing this man. But Good Cop had never seen a picture of him before. And now, here he was, sitting just within reach.

The only problem was that Good Cop was on the wrong end of the handcuffs.

"I'm so glad we can finally talk face to face, Bad Cop," Kinzel said, uncrossing his legs and sliding off the table. His boots clicked on the tile floor as he walked up to Good Cop. He reached up and gently prodded at the bandage on Good Cop's temple. "Seems like you've had a bit of a rough time even before you got here."

Good Cop jerked away from the touch. "I'm not Bad Cop," he snapped.

Kinzel knocked lightly on the top of Good Cop's head. "I'm pretty sure you _are_. You've got a very distinct face."

Good Cop gritted his teeth. "Well, _I'm_ wearing it right now. I'm Good Cop."

Kinzel took a step back, one thin eyebrow arched in thought. "Ah," he said. "I think I've heard about you. Word on the street has it you're dead."

"Word on the street has it wrong," Good Cop said shortly.

Kinzel sighed, leaning back against the table. "I'm not interested in you," he said, waving his hand. "Send Bad Cop out."

"I can't," Good Cop replied. His glasses were starting to slip down his nose, only saved from falling off completely by the bandage there. "He's not home right now."

Kinzel narrowed his eyes. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Good Cop growled. "There was a mix-up. He's in another body." He couldn't help a smirk. "You got the wrong Cop."

Fury flashed across Kinzel's face, and he backhanded Good Cop, sending the glasses skittering along the floor. "I don't like your tone," he hissed, grabbing Good Cop by the hair and jerking his head back.

Good Cop smiled mirthlessly, trying to ignore how every single one of his muscles ached. "That's too bad," he said. "It's the one you're getting."

Pain exploded in his stomach and the air rushed out of his lungs as Kinzel punched him in the gut. "Usually I admire sass in the face of danger," he said, face inches from Good Cop's, fingers tightening painfully in the cop's hair. "But I'm not in the mood right now." He took a step back, put his foot on the chair between Good Cop's legs, and slowly drew a dagger out of his boot. Good Cop watched with widening eyes, transfixed by the glinting blade.

Kinzel leaned forward, propping his elbow on his knee and waving the knife idly under Good Cop's nose. "So you're going to tell me," Kinzel said casually, "how, exactly, one ends up in the wrong body."

Good Cop barely heard him. His entire world had narrowed down to the dagger inches from his face. Light flickered along the edge of the blade, and his heart pounded in his ears. The room was darkening, the smell becoming musty and stale, the light that flashed on the metal dimming and yellowing. _Are you listening?_ he could hear Business saying. _Are you listening?_

"_I said_," Kinzel screamed, pressing the cold flat of the blade against the scarred side of Good Cop's face, "_are you listening?_"

At the contact, Good Cop inhaled sharply and snapped back to the present. His breathing came in sharp gasps, his heart thudding against this ribcage.

Kinzel fixed him with a calculating gaze, then trailed the tip of the knife along Good Cop's jaw, watching as the cop's breath quickened. "Well," Kinzel said, withdrawing the knife to tap the flat against his own lips contemplatively. "You've got some issues, don't you?"

Good Cop declined to answer, staring down at the floor and struggling to regain control of himself. He'd been trained for situations like these, dammit, he'd been _trained_-

He _had_ been.

Funny how one incident can unravel years of hard work.

He started to laugh, because he didn't know what else to do.

Kinzel jerked Good Cop's head back again and pressed the blade to his throat, but Good Cop just kept laughing.

The Duplo leader made a noise of contempt and sheathed the dagger, stepping away. "It didn't take long for you to snap, did it?"

Good Cop didn't seem to hear him, lost in hysterics.

Kinzel sighed and turned away, crossing the room to the door. He opened it, then glanced back at where Good Cop was slumped forward against his bonds, still chuckling to himself. Kinzel shook his head and stepped out, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Rawley!" he shouted.

There was the tramping of boots down the hall, and then a short woman skidded to a stop in front of him. "Yes, sir!" she said, saluting.

Kinzel crossed his arms and drummed his fingers. "What do we know about Good Cop?"

Rawley looked confused. "Just that he existed."

Kinzel frowned. "See if you can find out more."

Rawley nodded. "Is there anything else, sir?"

Kinzel narrowed his eyes at the far wall, thinking. "We may have to revise our initial plan."

"Sir?"

"It seems that Bad Cop's ended up in a new body. It's going to be very hard to find him now." Kinzel unfolded his arms and rested a hand on top of Rawley's helmet. "Let's bring in Emmet, shall we?"

Rawley grinned with malicious glee. "Yes, _sir_."


	17. Chapter 16

_super short this time, but i figured i'd torment you guys a little c:_

* * *

Benny snapped his phone shut and asked Bad Cop, "You were saying something about a solution?"

_Hm?_ Bad Cop seemed to snap out of some reverie. _Oh, yes. Good and I used to do it when we were in school. It takes mutual work, but we can weaken the barrier between us just enough for whoever isn't in control to see and hear what's happening. Of course, it's not as clear as if you were the one in control, but it was helpful for sitting through lessons sometimes, instead of having to teach each other things that we were both having trouble with. There are, of course, drawbacks._

"Nothing's ever easy," Benny muttered.

_Aye,_ Bad Cop agreed. _The barrier is what separates us as individuals. If we weaken it too much, or for too long, it could get hard to tell who's who. But I think we can make it so that you've got just a bit more awareness of the outside world._

Relief and trepidation battled each other in Benny's chest. "It doesn't have to be much," he said desperately. "Just get it to be less dark."

He felt Bad Cop smile. _I can do that._

Benny took Bad Cop's aviators out of his pocket and looked at them. "We've got a job to do, B," he said, and slid them on.

Bad Cop pushed the aviators up his nose, his face setting in determination. "You're darn straight, we do," he replied.

* * *

Emmet was woken by someone pounding at his door. He squinted at the clock. It was 2:30. Beside him, Wyldstyle groaned and rolled over. "Who the hell," she said, her voice raspy with sleep.

"Dunno," Emmet replied, pushing himself upright. Wyldstyle threw her arm across his waist to stop him.

"Nooo," she moaned. "You're my pillow."

"Sorry," Emmet said, prying her off him and standing up. "It might be important."

"Sleep more important," she mumbled, tugging the blankets around herself.

Emmet smiled, yawned, and shuffled out of the room. Wyldstyle was beginning to drift off again when she heard Emmet yelp, "_What?_"

Instantly, she was awake, leaping out of bed and bounding towards the front door. She skidded to a stop next to Emmet, and saw Detective Jenkins standing in the doorway, a worried expression on her face.

"What's going on?" Wyldstyle asked.

"The police station was attacked," Emmet said, looking at her with wide eyes. "Good Cop's been kidnapped."

"Shit," Wyldstyle said.

"Bad Cop and Benny are at the hospital with Unikitty," Jenkins added. "They wanted me to bring Emmet to them."

"I'm coming, too," Wyldstyle said automatically.

"Get some shoes on, then," Jenkins said, glancing off down the hall. "I don't think we have a lot of time."

* * *

Rawley watched as the trio climbed into the patrol car, her arms folded over the steering wheel. The boss wanted Emmet alive and in one piece, but he didn't say uninjured. She smirked, snapped her chewing gum, waited for the patrol car's engine to start. It was only a _tiny_ bomb. No one would die.

But, hell, she loved a good light show.


	18. Chapter 17

_forgot to mention last time, i did a couple of doodles of kinzel and rawley! they're on my tumblr (odd-gelato) /post/88334896722/kinzel-rawley-and-the-actual-duplo-figurines_

* * *

Jenkins strapped herself in, made sure everyone else was buckled up, and started the ignition. The engine turned over and suddenly there was a blast and her ears were ringing, the rear of the car lurching up and forward. She had a direct view of the ground through the windshield, and she had a moment to think _that's not right_ before the roof of the car crunched onto the asphalt. The acrid stench of smoke reached her and she snapped into action, reaching out to Wyldstyle sitting in the passenger seat. The Master Builder had cracked her head against the window and hung limply against the seat belt. Jenkins strained to twist around and check on Emmet in the backseat. He was awake, struggling to free himself.

"Are you alright?" Jenkins asked hoarsely.

"Fine," Emmet wheezed. "What's happening?"

Jenkins opened her mouth to reply, but then movement off to her side caught her attention. She could see a pair of combat boots walking towards them. The rubbery soles crunched on the glass as they came to a stop. The person knelt and their face ducked into view. It was a young woman, wearing a black helmet with goggles and an antenna. A blonde ponytail poked out from under the helmet, and she wore a uniform that Jenkins recognized as belonging to the Duplos.

"Yo," the woman said with a grin.

Jenkins fumbled for her gun, but the woman reached in through the broken window and grabbed the detective by the hair. "Ah, ah," she said, and slammed Jenkins' head against the ceiling. Jenkins gasped and sagged.

"Jenkins!" Emmet shouted, managing to free himself from the seat belt. He dropped awkwardly against the ceiling of the car and scrabbled towards the door on the passenger side.

The woman hopped up onto the undercarriage, the car rocking slightly beneath her, and dropped down onto the other side, where Emmet was wrestling with the door handle. She gripped the outer handle and yanked, tearing the door completely free. Emmet looked up at her with wide eyes, and she bent over and grabbed Emmet by the front of his shirt, dragging him out of the car and to his feet. "Hey, fella," she said.

"H-hey?" Emmet stuttered.

She smiled, which wasn't comforting in the least, and cracked her head against his. Emmet slumped in her grip.

Rawley tossed him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and put a hand to the side of her helmet with the antenna on it. "Hey, boss," she said. "We got 'im."

* * *

"Jenkins!" Bad Cop hollered as he stormed into the ER. "When I said come to the hospital, I didn't mean that you should show up in an ambulance!"

Jenkins cringed where she was sitting on the edge of the bed. A nurse was checking her head. "Not so loud, sir," she croaked. "My ears hurt."

There was a commotion in the next bed over, where Wyldstyle was shouting at the people tending to her. "Get off!" she yelled. "I'm fine! Let me go!"

Bad Cop pushed his aviators up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

_Wyldstyle's gonna go charging blindly off after Emmet if we don't do something,_ Benny noted.

Bad Cop gritted his teeth and stomped over to where Wyldstyle was struggling against her 'captors.' "You're in the hospital for a reason," he snarled at her, shoving a nurse aside. "Sit down and get treated."

Wyldstyle glared at him. There was a trickle of blood running down the side of her face, and her cheeks were smoke-stained, and it made her look extra fearsome. "I need to find Emmet," she growled.

"Yeah?" Bad Cop snapped. "And how're you gonna do that? Do you happen to know offhand where Kinzel's hideout is?"

She glowered but made no response.

"That's what I thought," Bad Cop said. He took off his aviators so he could look her in the eye. "Don't think you're the only one who got someone precious taken away from you."

Wyldstyle met his gaze defiantly for a moment, then she looked away.

Bad Cop slid the sunglasses back on. "I'm going to need you for this investigation, lass. But I need you with a level head."

Wyldstyle nodded.

"Good," Bad Cop said turning away. He left her, making his way back over to Jenkins, who was falling asleep even as she was being examined.

"Report!" Bad Cop barked.

Jenkins snapped awake, nearly knocking her head against the nurse's. The nurse gave Bad Cop a dirty look. "She needs rest," he said.

"She can rest in a moment," Bad Cop snapped. "I said report."

"Small bomb, on the underside of the rear end," Jenkins replied. "Triggered by the ignition. One assailant. Blonde woman, young, about five feet tall. Definitely Duplo."

Jenkins was almost giving the report in her sleep, and Bad Cop felt a little spark of pride. She was one of his most dedicated officers, and she'd come a long way from the day he'd first met her. "Good job, Jenkins," he said. "Get some sleep, now."

Jenkins smiled and flopped over, ignoring the nurse's protests that he hadn't finished checking her yet.

_Aw_, Benny said as Bad Cop walked away. _You two are cute._

Bad Cop halted and went bright red. "_What?_" he spluttered. A couple of nearby staff gave him odd looks.

He felt Benny smirk.

_I'm not cute_, Bad Cop muttered back at him.

_Mm-hm._

Then Bad Cop noticed the staff were still looking at him weirdly, and he realized he couldn't feel the floor under his feet. He looked down. There was at least a foot of empty space between him and the floor. He yelped and spun his arms, only succeeding in rotating himself backwards. "Benjamin!" he hissed through clenched teeth, trying not to make a scene. "How the heck do I get down?"

_Oh_, Benny said, realizing the problem. _Uh. You just… do?_

Bad Cop was still slowly spinning backwards, and he gave up on self-control. "That's not helpful!" he wailed. He was nearly upside down now, and had gained the attention of most of the room. Briefly, he felt thankful that no one knew it was actually him.

Then Wyldstyle was next to him, grabbing his ankle to steady him. His shades were slipping off, and he glowered up at her. "Don't just stand there smirking," he growled. "Help me down."

Wyldstyle looked like she was considering just dropping him to the floor upside-down, but she remembered Benny was in there, too, so she wheeled him upright and pushed him until his feet met the floor. A wave of relief washed over him as he felt gravity take hold again. He straightened his aviators and looked at Wyldstyle. "Thank you," he said.

She shrugged. "I needed the laugh."

Bad Cop scowled.

* * *

Good Cop had fallen quiet some time ago. Now he just stared into space, his mind blank. He didn't want to think, didn't even really want to remember he existed. But he was snapped back into reality when the door slammed open. His head jerked up in time to see Kinzel walk in, followed by a young woman with an unconscious figure slung over her shoulder.

There was another chair, on the opposite side of the table from Good Cop, and the woman dumped the figure unceremoniously into it and set about tying them up.

The person's head lolled to the side, and Good Cop realized with a jolt that it was Emmet. He instinctively yanked against his bonds and snarled, "Let him go!"

"Ah, good, you're back," Kinzel said, off to Good Cop's right, placing a hand on the cop's shoulder.

Good Cop tried to jerk away from the touch, but Kinzel's grip just tightened, and the Duplo leader leaned in a little. "I don't believe I've introduced you to my second in command," Kinzel said. "This is Rawley. There's no one I trust more than her."

Rawley turned away from Emmet and gave Good Cop a mocking salute. Good Cop glared back.

"He's stubborn, ain't he?" Rawley asked cheerfully.

"He is," Kinzel replied, then pinched Good Cop's left cheek like an over-friendly aunt at a family reunion as he added, "Got a few screws loose, though."

"Untie me and I'll loosen some of _your_ screws," Good Cop spat.

Kinzel stepped back, laughing. "You'll have to come up with better than that, my friend. Let's go, Rawley. I think we could use some sleep before we start the party." He turned away with a swish of his skirt and Rawley followed him to the door.

Good Cop recognized the way she trailed Kinzel. It wasn't unlike the way he and Bad Cop had followed Lord Business around. He felt a twist in his gut.

But it _was_ different. When Kinzel opened the door, he stood aside to let Rawley through first. If it had been the cops and Business, Business would have just strode on and the cops would have had to hurry to make sure the door didn't close on them.

Kinzel stepped out and gave Good Cop a little wave and said, "Ta!" before slamming the door shut.

Good Cop looked over at Emmet. The construction worker looked like he hadn't been brought in gently. Good Cop sighed, shifted uncomfortably on the chair, and waited for Emmet to wake up.


	19. Chapter 18

The more time Bad Cop spent in Benny's body, the more he realized just how awkward getting used to it was going to be. He'd gotten into Benny's uniform, and had felt strangely small. He was accustomed to being taller than everybody around him, and it was disconcerting to be at eye-level with Jenkins' chin.

Benny had gotten a lot calmer in the backseat now that he was more aware of the outside world, but there was also a lot less privacy between them now. So far, it hadn't been much of a problem (though Bad Cop suspected his new ability to float was washing over from Benny's mind), since all of their activities so far were purely work-focused. There was organizing a team to investigate the wreckage of the station and salvage what they could from it, then relocating cops to different precincts. He and Benny went personally to the ruined station to rummage through his office. Fortunately, it was one of the least damaged areas, and he was able to rescue most of his files. He had them transported to the nearest station, where he set up his new base of operations.

Bad Cop had commandeered a corner desk at the back of the station, from where he shouted orders into the phone and at surrounding officers, trying to restore some sense of order. It turned out that a couple other stations had been hit as well, presumably to act as decoys or distractions and to ensure chaos. It certainly had worked.

Then Business showed up, shoving his way through the crowd to Bad Cop's desk. Bad Cop tried his best to stamp down the swirling emotions bubbling up in his chest so they wouldn't overlap onto Benny, but he couldn't stop it completely. His own anger tangled with Benny's.

Business slammed his hands down on the desk. "Where's Bad Cop?" he growled. "I need to talk to him."

Bad Cop swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "You already are."

Business' brow furrowed into a glare. "This isn't a joke, Chu."

Bad Cop snatched his aviators off the desk and shoved them on. "Do I look like I'm feeling particularly humorous right now?" he snapped back. "Don't ask, just accept it. Now what do you want?"

Business leaned forward, his eyes searching Bad Cop's face. Finally, he said, "I was trying to figure out why no one's seen you since the explosion."

"Worried about me, are ye?" Bad Cop replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.

And then, unexpectedly, Business' gaze dropped. "Yes," he said quietly.

The sincerity in Business' tone made Bad Cop's mouth go dry. He forced down surfacing memories before Benny could see them and mustered an attempt at scorn. "Well, that's a first."

Business clenched his jaw, his hands balling up on the cheap wood surface of the desk. "I'm changing, Bad Cop," he said. "I'm trying to be a better person."

Bad Cop nearly snapped the pencil he was holding. "Are you trying to have a heart-to-heart with me?" he snarled. "_Now?_ Look _around_ you. I've got bigger things to worry about. If you're not going to be helpful, then _get out._"

Business looked back up at Bad Cop, his expression unreadable. "Actually, I _am_ here to help," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it as he continued, "I made a list of all the construction sites that I saw the Duplos hanging around, when I saw them, and how often."

Bad Cop took the sheet of notebook paper. It was filled top to bottom, margin to margin, with Business' neat, precise handwriting. He scanned it briefly, then looked at Business again. The former overlord almost seemed… nervous? No – there was a hopeful tint to it. It was a look that Bad Cop had never in a million years thought he would see on Business' face.

Business was seeking Bad Cop's approval. He wanted to be told he'd done good.

Oh, how the tables turn.

There was once a time, not too long ago, that Bad Cop would have bent over backward (and forward) to get the slightest praise from Business, and even the tiniest morsel of approval was hard-won.

And now Bad Cop had the power. After eight and a half years, Bad Cop had the upper hand.

The realization sent a thrill of exhilaration through him. Carefully, he set the paper down on the desk in front of him and folded his hands on top of it. He looked Business dead in the eye and said, "Adequate work."

Bad Cop felt a kind of sick pleasure as he watched his former boss' reaction. Business' face went slack, then began to flush with humiliated anger. He opened his mouth to retort, then slowly closed it again as a new comprehension dawned over him. His throat worked for a moment, then he replied hoarsely, "Thank you."

Bad Cop's expression set in dark satisfaction. "Dismissed," he said.

Business swallowed and straightened up. With one last look at Bad Cop, he turned away and pushed off through the crowd, head down and shoulders tense.

Bad Cop watched him go.

Then he realized that Benny had seen the whole thing.

But the spaceman was oddly quiet.

_Ben?_ he asked cautiously.

_Dude,_ Benny said shakily. _I…_

Benny fell silent again, seemingly unable to find the words he wanted. He probably now had a pretty clear idea of what Bad Cop's relationship with Business had been. Bad Cop was just glad that none of his more graphic memories had sprung forward. _Ben…_ He rubbed his hands over his face, taking off his aviators. _I should have told you._

Through the whole exchange with Business, Benny had been doing something akin to holding his breath, and now he released it. A tumult of emotions poured out – worry, horrified realization, the desire to hug Bad Cop, anger, and a general urge to cry.

Bad Cop put his head in his hands.

_It's okay, man,_ Benny said after a moment, trying to collect himself. _It's… Shit, Bad Cop. I wish I'd realized how much he messed you up._

_It's not all his fault._ Bad Cop sighed. _I was just as complicit. I let him. I did a lot of awful things, and this doesn't excuse anything._

If Benny were in control, he would be tearing his hair out. _He was _abusing_ you, dude! I thought it was just what he did to Good Cop, but… The whole time? The whole time! And now he wants to make nice? This is such bull-_

_Ben,_ Bad Cop interrupted. _Please. This is between me and Business. I don't want you getting involved._

Benny didn't reply, fuming silently instead. Bad Cop could tell the spaceman disagreed wholeheartedly with that idea, but Bad Cop didn't want Benny to end up in Business' path. Business may be trying to reform, but Bad Cop knew better than anybody how volatile his former boss could be.

_You don't need to protect me_, Benny muttered.

Bad Cop shook his head. _I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. Just… Can we talk about this later?_

Whatever Benny was going to say, he never got the chance. An officer came rushing out of the crowd and skidded to a stop in front of the desk. "Sir," he panted. "I think you need to see this."

Bad Cop stood up, looking around the station. While he'd been deep in conversation with Benny, he'd missed how everyone was beginning to gravitate towards the TV in the far corner. He followed the officer over, shoving his way to the front. When he saw the screen, his blood froze in his veins.

It was Kinzel, sitting casually in a chair and smiling into the camera. A woman matching Jenkins' description stood at his shoulder.

"_So if I've got your attention now,_" Kinzel was saying, as if having a chat over a cup of coffee. "_I'd like to introduce you to my guests._" He gestured off to the side, and the camera swiveled to show two men, each tied to a chair and gagged.

Emmet and Good Cop.

Bad Cop swallowed as Kinzel walked into the frame, coming to stand between the two chairs and leaning on them. "_This is a personal message for a special someone_," he said, smirking. "_You know who you are._"

Bad Cop felt as if Kinzel was looking straight at him through the TV, nailing him to the spot.

"_Let's play a little game,_" Kinzel said, ruffling Good Cop's hair. Good Cop tried to jerk away, but Kinzel fisted his hand in Good Cop's hair in response, pulling. Good Cop let out a muffled cry of pain, and fury blazed through Bad Cop.

Kinzel hadn't looked away from the camera the whole time. "_I've left a couple of hints around. You've got twenty-four hours to find me. Then the cop dies._" He released Good Cop and leaned over towards Emmet, patting the construction worker's cheek. Emmet kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. "_After that, you've got another twenty-four before the Special dies._" He gave Emmet's head a little shove and moved towards the camera. Bending close, he smiled brightly and said, "_I guess you could call this a declaration of war. Catch me…_" He winked. "_If you can._"

The screen went black.


	20. Chapter 19

Kinzel leaned back in the armchair by the window, looking out through the glass. "It's such a quaint little city," he sighed, propping his chin in his hand. "I almost hate to cause it so much trouble."

Rawley had sprawled out on the couch against the wall opposite the window. "I seriously doubt that, sir," she said, popping a fresh piece of gum into her mouth.

Kinzel smiled faintly, still gazing out the window at the view below. "You know me too well."

"Still," Rawley said, stretching. "What is _with_ this place? No gangs, barely any crime. It's frickin' _creepy_."

Kinzel hummed in agreement. "But I don't believe we could have arrived at a more opportune time. They're still reeling from one revolt – I doubt they're well equipped to stop another."

Rawley wrinkled her nose. "I can't wait 'til we've kicked these losers out. Blowin' up their stuff is fun and all, but this city is total Lamesville right now."

"Patience, dear." Kinzel shifted and looked over at her. "How are we in Cloudcuckooland?"

Rawley unhooked a small black tablet from her belt and scrolled across the screen. "Pretty good," she replied after a moment. "It really helped that the weird cat-unicorn-thing left to come here." She tapped against the side of the tablet contemplatively. "I wonder why, though. It didn't seem the type to bail."

Kinzel drummed his fingers on the armrest. "You're right," he said, narrowing his eyes out the window. "Have that looked into. In the meantime, let's move out. We have a game to play."

* * *

Before he left, Kinzel had removed their gags, but it was a while before either of them spoke.

Finally, it was Emmet who broke the silence. "Well," he said. "This isn't good."

Good Cop let out a humorless laugh. "That's one way of putting it."

Emmet watched Good Cop carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked after another few moments.

Good Cop rolled his eyes. "I'm tied to a chair with a death sentence hanging over me. What do you _think_?"

"No, I mean…" Emmet's face scrunched in thought as he tried to find the right words. "More than that. You look…" He trailed off. Then: "You look empty."

Good Cop's throat tightened. _Empty_. That was a good way of putting it. Had Bad Cop felt like this? Like his chest had been hollowed out, like there was a hole in him that cold wind whistled through? He swallowed, head bowing forward. "I _feel_ empty."

"Good Cop-" Emmet began, but Good Cop cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, voice ragged. "Please, Emmet."

Emmet seemed about to protest, but instead he leaned back, his shoulders sagging. "Yeah," he said. "Sorry."

Good Cop closed his eyes in relief. "Thank you."

"But if you change your mind," Emmet said softly, "I'll listen."

Good Cop looked over at him wearily. Emmet's face was creased with genuine concern, and nothing more, nothing less. All he wanted to do was help. Good Cop shook his head, one corner of his mouth twisting upward in not-quite a smile. "You're such a feckin' goody two-shoes."

And then, amazingly, Emmet laughed. "You're the last person who should be making that kind of accusation, _Good_ Cop."

"Oh, please," Good Cop snorted, but there was something uplifting about Emmet's laugh, even here, with his hands going numb behind his back and everything aching and half of himself missing.

No wonder this kid won a revolution. He could probably move mountains with nothing but the sheer force of his optimism.

The door swung open, and they both looked up. A couple of standard Duplo minions entered, in their black uniforms and white helmets that covered their faces. Without uttering a single word, they approached Emmet and cut him loose, yanking him to his feet.

"Hey!" Emmet protested. "What are you doing?"

He received no reply, and they started dragging him towards the door, impassive against his struggling.

"No!" Good Cop shouted, his chest constricting. "No, don't take him!"

But the door slammed shut, and Good Cop was left alone in the small room he'd been moved to for the filming.

_Alone_.

Panic churned in his gut and made his head spin. "No," he gasped. "No, please. Don't leave me alone." The air was stifling, hard to breathe. He jerked violently against his restraints. The rope scraped on the skin of his wrists. "_Don't leave me alone!_" he screamed, the chair rocking slightly under him where it was bolted to the floor. Something warm trickled down his hands, but he barely noticed. He screamed again, wordless and desperate, petering off and breaking into a sob.

He was alone, _alone_, well and truly, for the first time in his life, and Emmet's abrupt arrival and even more abrupt departure had only served to highlight this fact.

Slowly, his tugs against the bonds weakened and finally stopped, and he slumped forward, shaking uncontrollably. His breath came in short, hiccupping sobs. Blood oozed from the abrasions on his wrists and dripped off his fingers. Quiet pleads fell haltingly from his lips, but there was no one there to hear them.

Eventually, they too ceased.


	21. Chapter 20

_sorry this one took a little longer than usual!_

* * *

As soon as the transmission ended, every head turned to look at Bad Cop.

"Deputy," said the officer who'd called him over. "What do we do?"

The channel that Kinzel had hijacked to send out his message resumed its previous programming, and Bad Cop stepped forward and stabbed his finger at the TV's off button before facing the room. "Kinzel said that he'd left hints around. I have a list that may be of help, but I need some time to look it over. In the meanwhile, I want you to split up into groups and investigate each of the stations that were hit with a fine-toothed comb. Anything strange _at all_ should be bagged and tagged." He gritted his teeth. Ordinarily, he would have had Benny go over the list Business had given them while Bad Cop organized the teams. That was obviously not an option right now, and Jenkins was getting some well-deserved rest, so he scanned the crowd for familiar faces. He spotted one and barked, "Sergeant Yancy!"

The middle-aged man jumped in surprise and hurried to the front. "Sir?"

Yancy was fairly good at directing and organizing people. He would do. "I want you to be in charge of the investigation teams," Bad Cop said. "Make sure every station that was attacked is covered, as well as the place and car Emmet was kidnapped from."

Yancy nodded. "Yes, sir!" he replied.

"Good," Bad Cop said, and pushed his way back to his desk. He flopped into the chair and put his head in his hands, tangling his fingers in his hair.

_Are you okay?_ Benny asked, even though he already knew the answer.

_He's all alone, Ben_, Bad Cop replied, trying not to shake. _He's never been alone. At least I…_ He swallowed. _At least I had the leisure of locking myself in my apartment and not dealing with anything._

_Leisure, huh?_ Benny asked dryly.

_Compared to being kidnapped by a madman,_ Bad Cop said. _I think I had it easier._ Before Benny could reply, Bad Cop changed the subject. _Do you think you can sleep?_

_What?_ Benny sounded incredulous.

_In all likelihood, we're going to need to keep going for forty-eight hours. If we take turns sleeping, we'll be able to do that without becoming too exhausted._

_I dunno,_ Benny said doubtfully. _I think I'm too nervous._

_Please try_, Bad Cop replied. _At least just get a couple hours in. You'll feel better, and then we can switch and I'll sleep._

Benny radiated reluctance, but he said, _Alright. I'll try._

_Thank you. I'll wake you up if something new happens, okay?_

That seemed to ease some of Benny's worry, and Bad Cop felt the spaceman begin trying to relax. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey," said a voice.

Bad Cop snapped his head up. Wyldstyle was standing in front of his desk. "Bad Cop?" she asked.

Bad Cop nodded.

She sighed and hopped up to sit on the desk. "It's funny," she said. "Everyone thinks Benny's pretending to be Bad Cop since you're 'not here'." She put air quotes around the last two words.

Bad Cop leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps we'd best leave it that way." He paused. "And everyone's been acting normal about it?"

Wyldstyle shrugged. "Benny's got a reputation for being really weird. You know that."

"Well, yeah," Bad Cop said. "But…"

Wyldstyle raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, okay," Bad Cop conceded. He ran his hands over the sheet of paper in front of him, smoothing out the creases. "Business was here a little before the transmission," he said, holding up the list. "He gave me this. I think it might be of use. You've been assisting Emmet with the construction projects, so you'd probably be the best person right now to help me figure out if there are any clues in here."

Wyldstyle took the paper and glanced over it before looking back at Bad Cop. "If Business is the one who made the list, wouldn't it be better to ask him for help?"

Bad Cop's expression darkened, and that was apparently answer enough for Wyldstyle. She pursed her lips and turned her attention to the paper. After a moment, she said, "We need a map of the city."

* * *

_Benny _was_ tired. He'd slept at the hospital after Good Cop's first accident, but it had been restless. Benches and chairs aren't the best places to get a good night's sleep. So if he had to sleep now, he was certainly weary enough._

_But the encounter with Business nagged at him. He hadn't been able to capture clear images of the thoughts and memories that had gone racing through Bad Cop's mind, and he was glad for that. It had been a moment that Benny probably shouldn't have even been present for, never mind sharing the same head._

_The general nature of Business and Bad Cop's relationship, though, had been apparent enough. Benny wondered why he hadn't realized it sooner. There were so many little hints that had been left lying around. Bad Cop had a lot of scars that were older than T.A.K.O.S. Tuesday's, and Benny had thought they had been acquired over the years in the line of duty, but in retrospect more than a few of them looked an awful lot like the scars that Benny _knew_ Business had made._

_Benny didn't really want to think about the heady rush Bad Cop had felt upon realizing the power scales had been tipped in his favor. It had been an unsettling reminder of the darkness Bad Cop was capable of._

_Things outside had calmed down now, though. Wyldstyle was saying something about a map, and Benny forced himself to settle. Worrying right now would do more harm than good. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep._

* * *

They spread out the map on the long table in the conference room. Wyldstyle had marked off on the list which construction sites had seemed the most targeted, and now she was circling their locations on the map. They were mostly focused in the more northeastern part of the city, but other than that, there didn't seem to be any pattern to them.

Bad Cop narrowed his eyes. "Here, let me have the marker."

Wordlessly, Wyldstyle handed it over to him, and he circled the police stations that had been hit. There were four of them – the main station, one slightly northeast of it, another near the east wall, and one in the South Side.

Still, no apparent pattern.

Then Wyldstyle said, "Oh, you've got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

Bad Cop raised an eyebrow at her, but she wasn't looking at him. She snatched the marker out of his hand and drew three quick lines.

Bad Cop groaned.

The spots they'd marked formed an arrow pointing directly at the Northeast Projects.

Wyldstyle looked at him. "This has to be a joke."

Bad Cop pinched the bridge of his nose. "It _is_, to Kinzel anyway. He probably thinks it's hilarious. This is our hint. He's in the Northeast Projects."

Wyldstyle shook her head. "It can't be that easy." She pointed to the South Side station, which was the only one that was too far out of the way to be part of the arrow. "What's with that?"

"I don't know," Bad Cop replied, drumming his fingers on the table. "It's definitely suspicious. I'll have Yancy send extra people to that station. But in the meanwhile," he continued, rolling up the map. "You and I are going to the Projects."


	22. Chapter 21

The Northeast Projects were a corner of the city that had been in the process of demolition before T.A.K.O.S. Tuesday, and so had for the most part been ignored during the reconstruction of the city. It was a good place for a criminal hideout. Bad Cop had tried to dig out Duplos from there before, with little success. The Projects were a mess, full of hidey-holes and alleys, and Bad Cop didn't have the resources to do a thorough search, not while the Duplos were kicking up a fuss in other parts of the city as well.

Even with the knowledge that the hideout was in the Northeast Projects, finding the hideout in the allotted amount of time wasn't going to be a simple task – not only for the aforementioned reasons, but because, with such an obvious clue, Kinzel probably had more in store for them. He may not have known how quickly they would find the _big darn arrow_, but he had definitely known that they _would_ find it. It was the only reason he would have been so obvious about casing those particular construction sites. All the sites he'd attacked before had come out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever.

Finding the arrow had been easy, and if Bad Cop was sure of anything, it was that Kinzel was _not_ going to make this easy.

He rounded up a squad of officers and got into his car, Wyldstyle riding shotgun. "When we find Good Cop," Bad Cop told her as she buckled up, "I want you to understand that it's unlikely we'll find Emmet with him."

Wyldstyle glared at him. "I know that," she snapped. "If Kinzel's playing a game like this, he's not going to keep all his pieces in the same spot."

"Good," Bad Cop said. "But I want you to listen to me very carefully now." He waited until Wyldstyle looked him in the face before continuing. "You may have been fighting a war for the past eight and a half years and you have incredible skill, but you have no formal training. There is protocol. So when I give you an order, I need you to follow it."

Her gaze darted away.

"Wyldstyle," Bad Cop said, his tone hard. "I need your word that you will follow my orders."

Reluctantly, she looked back at him. "Fine," she muttered.

Bad Cop sighed. He supposed it was the best he was going to get. Suddenly, his phone rang, and they both jumped in surprise. He pulled it out and flipped it open. "Hello?"

It was the hospital. A very harassed-sounding receptionist was trying to talk over shouting in the background. "_Is this Benjamin Chu_?"

"Uh," Bad Cop said. "Yes."

"_Please come to the hospital_," the receptionist said. It was less a request and more a cry for help.

Alarm shot through Bad Cop. "Is there something wrong?"

"_Your friend is feeling much better_." The statement was delivered like bad news.

"Unikitty?" Bad Cop asked.

"_That's the one_."

Sure enough, some of the background yelling included Unikitty's rather unique voice. He was able to pick out enough words to realize that Unikitty was insisting they were fine now and was demanding to be released. Bad Cop felt a brief pang of pity for the hospital staff. He glanced out the window at the other patrol cars waiting for him to give the signal to go. "I'll be right there," he told the receptionist.

"_Thank you_," she replied, seeming ready to cry with relief.

He hung up and gave orders for the rest of the squad to go on ahead and begin the search.

"What's going on?" Wyldstyle asked.

"We're going to rescue the hospital from Unikitty," Bad Cop said, and turned on the sirens.

* * *

Fortunately, the hospital was only a short distance away. When they entered the lobby, it became instantly apparent that Unikitty was, indeed, feeling much better. They had gone completely scarlet, and the ponytails on either side of their head had burst into flame. There was a doctor cowering in front of them, flanked by two security officers, struggling to explain all the reasons Unikitty should not be discharged yet.

Unikitty wasn't having any of it, shouting over the doctor every time he tried to speak and waving their right arm around to prove just how fine they were. They'd managed to get their original clothes back, and there was still a bloodstained hole in the right shoulder of the dress.

Then Unikitty caught sight of Bad Cop and Wyldstyle hurriedly approaching, and they immediately flushed back to their normal pink, the fire in their hair going out. "It's about time," they huffed, stomping one foot. "Let's get going."

Bad Cop held up a hand to stop her. "Whoa there," he said. "Mind explaining exactly what's happening?"

"I saw the transmission!" Unikitty replied, clenching their fists at their sides and jutting out their chin stubbornly. "I'm going to help you find Emmet and Good Cop."

"You're injured!" Wyldstyle said, stepping forward. "There's no sense in-"

"But I'm _not_!" Unikitty protested. "That's what I've been trying to tell everyone! I'm all better!"

"You were impaled by a metal bar," Bad Cop cut in. "You don't recover from that overnight."

"Nobody's _listening_ to me!" Unikitty wailed. "I heal fast! _Look!_" They tugged at the neckline of their dress, pulling it to show their shoulder. The only sign of the wound was a fresh-looking scar.

"And _I've_ been trying to say that just because it_ looks_ healed doesn't mean there isn't still internal damage!" the doctor wailed back. "If you'd just let us do some scans-"

"No!" Unikitty shouted, stomping their foot. "I want to _go!_"

Bad Cop stepped in between the two. "We'll keep an eye on them," he said to the doctor. The doctor looked about to protest, but Bad Cop interrupted him. "I don't have time for this argument. If they say they're good, then they're good. If something happens, I'll bring them back. Alright?"

The doctor threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Just fill out the discharge papers and you can get out of here." He spun on his heel and stormed off. The security guards lingered, watching suspiciously until the three of them left the lobby.

Unikitty got into the backseat of the patrol car as Bad Cop and Wyldstyle buckled in up front. "So what are we doing?" they asked brightly.

Bad Cop pulled away from the curb, explaining the situation as he drove. When he finished, Unikitty asked, "Is this Projects place bad?"

"Yeah," Wyldstyle replied. "Right now it looks kind of post-apocalyptic. No one legit goes there anymore – we've got other construction stuff to worry about."

"Oh," Unikitty said.

They were getting closer to the projects now, and Bad Cop narrowed his eyes at the skyline. "Is that…?"

"Oh, man," Wyldstyle said.

There was a thick column of black smoke rising up out of the Projects. Bad Cop picked up his radio. "Squad nine, report in."

He waited for a response, but didn't get one.

"Squad nine," he repeated. "Report."

Nothing but static.

"Darn it," he muttered, and stepped on the gas, speeding in the direction of the ominous pillar. It was deep in, but Bad Cop was good at driving fast, and they made it there in under a minute. He spun the wheel, squealing around a corner, and then he slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a halt.

"Oh my god…" Wyldstyle breathed.

There was a pile of burning patrol cars in the middle of the road, some of them crumpled flat, and one of them nearly ripped in half. Scattered on the ground around the pile were a few _very_ dead officers. The asphalt was splattered with blood and other things Bad Cop didn't want to think too hard about.

It was a massacre.

Before he could react, Wyldstyle was out of the car and racing towards the scene. Bad Cop scrambled out after her. "Wait!" he shouted.

"We have to look for survivors!" she called back, raising one arm to shield her face from the heat as she tried to peer into the wreckage.

Bad Cop caught up to her with Unikitty on his heels. "Look at this mess," he hissed at her. "You really think anyone made it through? We need to call for backup _now_, before whatever did this finds us, too."

Before Wyldstyle could retort, a different sound reached them over the crackling of the flames. Snuffling, clicking claws. And then a high-pitched, childish giggle.

Bad Cop felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. The blood drained from Wyldstyle's face, and the trio looked at each other with growing horror.

"Hounds," Bad Cop whispered.


	23. Chapter 22

_as of this chapter this fic is over 25k words, making it the longest thing i have ever written! (also if this were for nanowrimo i'd be at the halfway point. amazing.)_

* * *

"Back to the car," Bad Cop said, grabbing Unikitty by the shoulder and turning them in the direction of the cruiser. "Go, _go!_"

It was too late. There was a crunch, and the roof of the patrol car buckled under the weight of a creature roughly the size of a bear. At first glance, one might think it cute, with its yellow fluffy fur and floppy speckled ears, appearing to be some mix of cat and dog.

But then there was its wide grinning mouth, full of pearly-white shark teeth, and its long razor-sharp retractable claws, stained with blood.

"Let's be friends," it said in the voice of a young child still learning to speak, and then it lunged.

"Run!" Bad Cop screamed, dragging Unikitty along as he and Wyldstyle dove out of the way.

The Hound landed in the spot the three of them had just been in, its claws leaving deep scores in the asphalt.

Bad Cop tripped and stumbled, unused to Benny's lanky legs, and lost his grip on Unikitty. He regained his footing, then suddenly found himself being lifted off his feet by the back of his shirt and flung into the air. Then he landed awkwardly on soft pink fur behind Wyldstyle, and he realized that Unikitty had transformed into a much larger, more horse-like version of their cat form. Wyldstyle helped Bad Cop upright as Unikitty thundered down the street. Bad Cop twisted around to look behind, and saw that the Hound was hot on their heels and had been joined by two more – one a powder-blue panther-like monstrosity and the other a thing that didn't look like any creature he'd ever seen.

He pressed the button on the radio clipped to his right breast pocket. "I need backup in the Northeast Projects!" he shouted into it. "Three Hounds sighted, with the possibility of more!"

The radio crackled, but he received no reply.

"This is Deputy Chu!" he yelled. "Can anyone hear me?"

Nothing.

"Kinzel could be blocking the transmission," Wyldstyle said, looking over her shoulder at him.

Bad Cop checked his watch and gritted his teeth. Less than twenty hours to go. "We don't have time to battle our way out of here, gather reinforcements, battle our way back in, and still be able to do a proper search," he growled, drawing his gun and checking the clip. It was full – seventeen rounds, and a spare clip in his belt.

"So we're on our own, then," Wyldstyle replied, baring her teeth in a fierce grin. "Sounds like fun."

Bad Cop slammed the clip back into the gun and yanked the slider. "I like your optimism, lass," he said, turning to face backwards. "Keep it up." He aimed carefully at the closest Hound, the bizarre mutated mess, taking a moment to adjust to the rhythm of Unikitty's galloping gait before pulling the trigger. The bullet hit the Hound in the eye and it reeled back, letting out a horrible, blood-curdling scream. He'd been aiming for between the eyes, but he supposed that worked as well.

The other two Hounds didn't even flinch, pounding furiously after the trio.

"Hang on, guys!" Unikitty called, and Bad Cop was barely able to fist his free hand in Unikitty's fur and clamp his legs down before Unikitty hung a sharp left into an alley. The Hounds were going too fast to react in time, and they overshot the entrance.

There was a half-destroyed building in front of Unikitty now, and Bad Cop tightened his grip as he felt Unikitty's muscles bunch under him in preparation for a leap.

Then they were in the air, soaring over the rubble below, and Wyldstyle whooped. Bad Cop looked over his shoulder at where they were headed – a gaping hole in an abandoned building, five stories up. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and braced for impact.

Unikitty's speed had been too much for them to stick the landing. They dug their claws into the floor in an attempt to brake, spun wildly, and scrabbled to a stop on the opposite side of the building.

Bad Cop slid to the floor and let out the breath he'd been holding, his legs shaking. Wyldstyle hopped off Unikitty's back.

"Wow," she said breathlessly. "That was something."

Bad Cop grunted, holstering his weapon.

Unikitty shrunk back into their human form and Wyldstyle helped them back to their feet. "You okay?" she asked.

Unikitty nodded, rubbing their right shoulder. "Still a little sore," they admitted.

Bad Cop paced back and forth. "We shouldn't stay in one place too long," he said, rubbing at his chin. "Kinzel said he'd left a few hints, so there's bound to be more around somewhere." He walked back in the direction they'd entered the building from, and Wyldstyle and Unikitty followed him.

The column of smoke rising from the wreckage of the patrol cars was still visible, and from here they had a pretty good view of the projects. They could even see the wall that marked where Bricksburg ended, separating the city from the Forest of Obsolete Products beyond.

Wyldstyle followed his gaze with her own, looking at the wall. "I don't think Kinzel would have taken them out of the city," she said. "That'd be leaving the playing field."

"You're right," Bad Cop replied, narrowing his eyes. "But I think I see something."

Wyldstyle squinted. "Please don't tell me that's what I think it is."

Bad Cop took a small pair of binoculars out of a pouch on his belt and looked through them. "It's what you think it is," he sighed, handing them to her.

She took them and raised them to her eyes. "I didn't think I could hate him any more that I already did," she said, giving the binoculars back.

There was a large yellow happy face spray-painted on the wall in the distance. Underneath it were the words, 'Tick-tock!'

Bad Cop put the binoculars away. "I guess we know where we're going next."


	24. Chapter 23

Good Cop wasn't sure how long he'd been in this room now. There wasn't a clock. There wasn't anything. Just the empty chair that Emmet had been in.

He looked at it, and felt a sudden surge of resolve. What was he _doing_ sitting here and sniveling, waiting to be rescued like some goddamn fairytale princess? There was some gobshite out there wreaking havoc on Bricksburg. On _his city_.

If Bad Cop had been able to keep doing his job even while missing Good Cop, then Good Cop could do the same.

_No one_ messed with his city.

He flexed his hands, wincing as the rope chafed against his raw skin. His ankles had been tied to the legs of the chair as well, and he tried squirming against them, with no luck. Craning his neck, he eyed the bolts holding the chair to the floor. They seemed fairly new. It was likely that these chairs were not part of the room's original design, because while the bolts were new, the floor was old, cracks running through the cement. He threw his weight against the chair and it rocked slightly, the cement crumbling a little around one of the bolts.

Clenching his jaw, he did it again, putting as much force into it as he could. The rope burned against his wrists and his head ached and his stomach hurt, but he powered through, heaving side to side with all the strength he had. The chair was beginning to rock more now, and he paused, breathing heavily. Blood had begun trickling down his fingers again, and he was pretty sure he was going to have permanent scars on his wrists from this. But he already had so many. What were a couple more?

He examined the bolts again. One of them was almost completely free of the old cement, but the others still seemed to be stuck in pretty well. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, pausing for a moment to refocus. His hands were pretty slick with blood, so he tried to use that to wriggle out of his bonds, but hissed in pain and decided he'd rather keep his skin. He wobbled the chair, watching the bolt that was coming loose. If he could just loosen one more, he could tip right over… and then what? He'd still be tied to the chair, but more uncomfortable.

Good Cop sagged, feeling the fight begin to drain from him. He wished Bad Cop were here.

_No_. He couldn't think like that. Not now. Besides, he was going to be able to get his counterpart back. All he had to do was get out of here, get to Benny. Bad Cop had thought that he'd lost Good Cop forever, but he'd still kept going.

It would be an insult to Bad Cop if Good Cop gave up now.

_Think_.

Kinzel wouldn't have left him here unguarded. There were bound to be Duplo minions still here.

Breaking the chair out of the concrete would make a lot of noise.

Good Cop smiled.

Reinvigorated, he began rocking the chair again, banging it back and forth. The looser the bolts became, the louder it clattered.

The door slammed open and two Duplos came barging in, shouting, "What the hell's going on in here?"

And, right on time, the concrete let the bolts go and the chair topped over sideways. Good Cop let out an _oof_ as he hit the ground. _Oh, that hurt._

"Ugh, for real?" one of the minions said, walking over. "Help me get him back up."

The two of them heaved Good Cop upright. "Honestly," the second one said, leaning in. "What did you think you were going to achieve?"

Good Cop lurched forward, body-checking the minion. The minion stumbled back, tripped, and fell on his rear. Good Cop managed to gain his balance, awkwardly hunched to the shape of the chair.

"This is ridiculous," said the first minion, drawing an electric baton out of her belt and approaching Good Cop.

As soon as she got close, Good Cop spun, whacking her with the legs of the chair and sat back, pushing her to the floor under the chair. One of the legs of the chair landed on her arm, quite by accident but very fortuitously for him, and he heard bone crunch. Minion One screamed.

The minion that Good Cop had knocked back earlier was on his feet again and headed straight for Good Cop, but the cop leaned his weight even more onto the female minion's arm.

Minion Two faltered when One screamed again.

"How about you untie me, and she gets a chance at keeping her arm?" Good Cop asked cheerfully.

Two made a noise of contempt. "We're dead anyway if we don't keep you here," he snapped, but still he hesitated.

"And if you keep me here, you think Bad Cop will let you live?" Good Cop replied, still keeping up that dangerously cheery tone. "You _really _wanna die? You let me go now, you can just skedaddle and do whatever you want with the rest of your lives. I'm much nicer than my brother."

While Good Cop's attention had been on Two, One had reached up, and now she grabbed the rope binding Good Cop's wrists and drew in one leg, pulling down on the rope and pushing up on the bottom of the chair with her knee. The chair fell backwards, and Good Cop's head cracked against the cement. Minion One scrambled away, her arm hanging uselessly at her side. "You honestly think we'd betray Kinzel?" she spat, her good hand clamped down on her wound. "Wise up. Let's go," she said to her compatriot, jerking her head towards the door. "He can stay like that."

They left, slamming the door behind them.

Good Cop groaned, pain lancing through his head.

Then he felt something under his hands. It was a shard of concrete, its edges jagged and sharp. He closed his fingers around it, fumbled with it until it was against the rope, and began to saw.


	25. Chapter 24

The three of them moved carefully through the rubble. Wyldstyle had made a weapon out of a long length of rebar and a rusty saw blade she'd found, and she held it at the ready as she followed Bad Cop.

After Bad Cop had tripped over a loose piece of concrete for the fourth time, Wyldstyle out a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Maybe you'd better let Benny take over," she murmured.

Bad Cop glared. "I'm _fine_."

Wyldstyle rolled her eyes. "You're falling over every five seconds. If Unikitty hadn't picked you up back there, you'd be dog food right now."

Bad Cop turned his face away, and Wyldstyle stepped around to make him look at her. "I hope you don't think you're protecting Benny," she said.

He coughed uncomfortably. "Of course not," he muttered, shoving his aviators up his nose. They were a bit big on Benny's face, and kept sliding down.

"You're gonna get the both of you killed," Wyldstyle said.

"Alright, alright," Bad Cop snapped. "Give me a second." He stepped a little ways away and sat down. _Benny?_ he asked tentatively.

There was a moment, and then Benny replied sleepily, _B?_

_We're in a bit of trouble,_ Bad Cop said. _I hate to do this to you, but I'm having some problems adjusting to your body._

_Hasn't stopped you yet_, Benny yawned.

_This is a bit more life or death_, Bad Cop replied.

Benny was instantly wide-awake, and Bad Cop explained the situation.

_Aw, I hate Hounds,_ Benny groaned. _Alright, let's do this._

Bad Cop switched out, and Benny took the aviators off his face, pocketing them. "And I don't want you worrying in the back of my head, okay?" he said. "It's your turn to sleep."

_Fine_, Bad Cop grumbled, and he faded back with practiced ease.

Benny stood up and returned to Wyldstyle, eyeing her saw-spear. "That's certainly menacing," he said.

Wyldstyle smiled, adjusting her grip on it. "Good," she replied. "Welcome back."

Benny cricked his neck. "Good to be back." He paused, looking around at the half-decimated city. "I think."

"Bad Cop fill you in?" Wyldstyle asked.

"Yeah," Benny said. "We're headed for the happy face." He scanned the wall until his eyes settled on the yellow dot in the distance, then checked his watch. Bad Cop had set a timer, and it read eighteen hours. "Are we really walking the whole way?"

"We're trying to not attract the attention of any Hounds," Wyldstyle answered, leaning on her weapon. "We figured once we get closer, we'll make a break for it."

Benny chewed on his lip. "I can keep an eye out from above, serve as an early-warning system."

Wyldstyle nodded. "That might work."

She'd barely finished the sentence before Benny took off, rocketing into the air. He stopped when he could see the surrounding streets for a few blocks. Hovering, he searched out any suspicious movement, following along above Unikitty and Wyldstyle as they made their way along. When he was satisfied there weren't any Hounds in the immediate vicinity, he floated ahead, coming down to land on the rooftop of a three-story building. If he stayed in the air too long, the Hounds were as likely to spot him as he was to spot them.

He pulled out the binoculars and looked over at the happy face again. It almost certainly wasn't what marked Good Cop's location – in all probability, it was just the next hint. He itched to just fly ahead and investigate, but that would leave Wyldstyle and Unikitty open to surprise attacks. They needed him on lookout.

But it was going to be at least an hour's walk, maybe even two. And who knew how many clues that Kinzel was going to be leaving them. For all they could tell, he might just be leading them on a merry chase around the Projects, getting them to waste their time on following a long trail of breadcrumbs.

Benny checked back on the progress the other two were making, and movement caught the corner of his eye. Two blocks away, a pink lizard-thing about the length of a bus was slinking towards them.

He pushed off the roof of the building and dove to the ground, grit on the asphalt crunching under his feet as he skidded to a stop in front of Wyldstyle and Unikitty. "Hound behind you," he said breathlessly, drawing his gun. "It's coming fast. I recommend running."

Wyldstyle turned to look, tightening her grip on her weapon. "It'll call its friends if we let it."

"We don't have time to fight," Benny replied. "Tick-tock, remember?"

Wyldstyle gritted her teeth. The Hound was picking up speed, its stubby legs blurring as it scrambled down the street. "Fine," she spat. "Unikitty?"

Unikitty had already transformed, and they lifted Wyldstyle onto their back, Benny leaping up after her, and off they went.

Benny squinted against the air rushing past, and he called over the wind, "Can you roof-hop?"

In lieu of a reply, Unikitty tensed their hind legs and jumped, soaring through the air to land on top of the nearest two-story building. They put on an extra spurt and leapt to the next one, following the best path of short buildings toward the happy face. Benny looked behind. There was no sign of the Hound. Then he looked down, and there it was, skittering after them along the ground, following them through the alleys and streets between the buildings. If Unikitty lost their footing, it would be on them in seconds.

"Hey, Unikitty!" Benny shouted. "Remember Atlantis?"

"Oh, no," Unikitty replied. "No, we are _not_ doing an Atlantis!"

"What's an Atlantis?" Wyldstyle asked.

Benny checked behind again. There was a second Hound, leaping along the rooftops after them. "I don't think we have a whole lot of choices here!" Now there was a third, crawling along the sides of the buildings.

"_What's an Atlantis?_"

"Oh, _fine_," Unikitty snarled, and pushed off the building as hard as they could, gliding into the air so high they could almost see the entirety of the Projects. Benny hooked his arm through Wyldstyle's and then, just at the peak of the arc, Unikitty swapped back into their human form and grabbed Benny's hand.

Wyldstyle looked down. The Hounds below appeared so small from up here.

The trio started to fall. Wyldstyle opened her mouth to scream, but then-


	26. Chapter 25

_double update woop woop_

* * *

_9 ½ years ago_

Benny went to Atlantis because he needed to be away from space for a little while. Everything seemed different now. Being a Master Builder was… overwhelming. Wherever he looked, he could see how things had been put together, and how he could take them apart, and new things he could make out of them. He wasn't even _trying_, it was just _appearing_ to him. At times, he was half-convinced that he was just hallucinating, that he'd suffered more brain damage than he thought, or even maybe that he was still out on the asteroid, still slowly suffocating. The headache he'd had since he'd woken up a week ago back safe in Cape Space pierced through his temples.

He needed to be away from space and so he went to Atlantis, the learning hub of the Master Builder world. If you wanted to be a Master Builder, this was where you came to find a teacher. If you were already a Master Builder, this was where you came to find like-minded individuals.

In Benny's case, he supposed it was a weird combination of both.

But he hadn't counted on how _big_ Atlantis would be. It was a huge, glistening city, full of glimmering towers and silver spires, in the middle of a vast expanse of water. And that was just the top level. Underwater was an exact mirror of the city above, its spires reaching down towards the ocean floor as its counterpart's reached for the clouds.

And there were _so many people_. It had been so long since Benny had been around a crowd of more than ten – in fact, he was the most used to having just four for company. But this… oh, there were people _everywhere_. When he'd first arrived at the port, it was almost a relief to be surrounded by so much life. Shouts, laughter, conversation, as people disembarking the ship mingled with the people already there. It was so far from that cold rock in its empty space, and it cheered him immensely.

Unfortunately, the thrill didn't last very long. The city was vast, and the crowds seemingly endless, and even when he asked for directions he somehow managed to get turned around. The sheer amount of people pressed in on him, and the tall, glittering towers seemed to spiral above him, making him dizzy. He stumbled blindly through until he finally managed to reach a pocket of peace – a small, vacant lobby beyond a glass door. Pushing the door open, he all but fell inside, sucking in deep breaths of air as he tried to clear his head.

"Are you alright?" said a worried voice off to his right.

Benny inhaled sharply and whipped around.

Watching him with concern was a young-looking person of indeterminate gender, wearing a bright yellow sundress. They had cat ears and a unicorn horn. When Benny gave no sign of responding, they asked, "Are you new here?"

Benny nodded wordlessly.

They gave him an understanding smile and set the stack of books they'd been holding on the reception desk before approaching him. "First time here can be a bit overwhelming," they said, sticking out their hand. "Princess Unikitty."

Benny blinked, accepting the handshake. "Of… Cloudcuckooland?"

"That's the one!" they replied cheerfully, smoothing out their skirt. "Since you've never been here before, I'm assuming you're a student?"

"Um," Benny said. "Sort of. I mean. I _am_ a Master Builder. I think. But it was kind of… an accident."

Unikitty's round, almost childish face creased in puzzlement. "How do you 'accidentally' become a Master Builder?"

Benny shrugged helplessly.

Unikitty gave him a considering look, standing up on tiptoe to search his face. After a long, uncomfortable moment, they rocked back on their heels, smiled like the sun, and said, "Don't worry. I'll help you."


	27. Chapter 26

-the world blurred around her, the colors swirling in nauseating loops, and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling like she was being wrung out like a dishtowel, immense pressure pushing in on her until she couldn't breathe.

And then suddenly, snapping back like an elastic band, it was over, and she was skidding along hard concrete, finally rolling to a stop on her back. Somewhere along the line she'd lost her hold on Benny. Slowly, she cracked open her eyes, and found herself staring directly up into the mocking smile of the happy face. "Whoa," she croaked, propping herself up on her elbows and looking around. They were on the roof of a building right near the wall. She unsteadily pushed herself to her feet, stumbling a little as she tried to regain her balance.

"Oh, no, no, _no_," she heard Benny gasp behind her, and she turned to look.

He was scrambling towards Unikitty, who was lying motionless in their cat form, their eyes closed and breathing shallow. Benny scooped them up, cradling them in his arms. "Oh, _no_," he murmured, running his hand gently through their fur. "Why didn't you _tell_ me, Kit?"

Alarm shot through Wyldstyle, and she hurried up to Benny. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't realize how much of their magic they must have used up healing themself," Benny moaned. "They should have _said_, I'd have never suggested it, we could have figured something else out-"

"Slow down, Benny," Wyldstyle interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you explain to me exactly what just happened?"

Benny sat down, crossing his legs and carefully placing Unikitty in his lap. "When I first became a Master Builder, I went to Atlantis," he replied, stroking Unikitty softly. "That was where I met them, and they became my mentor. Once they'd taught me how manage my abilities, we kinda started to look more in-depth at how we're able to bend certain stuff about the universe to our will – Unikitty's magic, my floating. And then they got the idea that maybe, what if we combined them? Use my anti-gravity with their magic and see if we can make a wormhole that we could teleport through? But it, ah, it takes up a lot of Unikitty's energy, and it's not the most… stable thing in the world. We've only done it once before." He seemed reluctant to continue.

"And?" Wyldstyle prompted.

"We're not allowed to go to Atlantis anymore," Benny replied guiltily.

Wyldstyle tilted her head back with an exasperated groan, and then something above caught her eye. Something sparkly. She twisted around to look. There was a bright path of glitter zigzagging across the sky, leading from the direction they'd come from. "Benny," she hissed, turning back to face him and pointing up. "What is the point of teleporting away from our enemies if we _leave behind a trail for them?_"

Benny's gaze followed her finger's direction. "Oh," he said. "I forgot about that."

Wyldstyle leapt to her feet. "We need to figure out what's here, and _fast_." She looked around, spotted her makeshift weapon, and hurried over to snatch it up.

Benny scrambled after her, careful of Unikitty in his arms. He looked up at the happy face and the words painted beneath it, then squinted. "I think I see something," he said, turning to Wyldstyle. "Can you hold Unikitty for a moment?"

Wyldstyle gingerly took the limp cat from Benny, and then he was rocketing away, headed for the wall. She watched as he stopped and examined something between the 'tick' and the 'tock.' He flew back, landed in front of her, and produced a sheet of paper.

She traded Unikitty for the paper and looked it over. Written in neat, looping handwriting was:

_There's an intact house a little south of here. Rather cozy, I think. The basement, though, not so much. I certainly hope you have time._

Wyldstyle glanced from the paper to Benny. "He's just _telling_ us where Good Cop is?"

Benny checked his watch. Sixteen hours. That _was_ time. But without Unikitty… they were walking. He held Unikitty out to Wyldstyle again and unzipped his jacket, taking the radio and badge off it and clipping them to his belt. The only thing under his jacket was a white T-shirt, and it left him feeling a bit chilly, but he ignored it and quickly knotted the sleeves of the jacket to make a sling. Wyldstyle handed Unikitty back to him, and he carefully secured them in it. "I'll scope out from above," he said as he finished up.

Wyldstyle nodded, and they set off, the distant sound of the Hounds' childlike screams of laughter following on their heels.


	28. Chapter 27

It felt like an eternity, sawing away at his bonds with the chip of concrete. The jagged edges bit into his fingers almost as much as they did the rope, but he persevered.

And then suddenly, he was free. He wriggled his arms out from under him and took a good look at his hands. Or, rather, not so good. Sure enough, his wrists were badly chafed, and the concrete chip had left small lacerations across his palms and fingers. His head throbbed, and he reflexively pressed his hand to his forehead and almost instantly withdrawing it with a hiss at the pressure on the wounds, but not before accidentally smearing blood all over his brow.

Cursing under his breath, he managed to squirm out of his shirt and began to rip it into rough estimates of strips. He wrapped the torn cloth around his hands, using his teeth to help tie off the ends into knots. Experimentally, he flexed his hands. They still hurt, but they were more protected now. With a grunt, he sat up, doubling over to reach the ropes tying his ankles to the chair. After a few more minutes of fumbling, he managed to untie them, and he rolled away from the chair with a groan.

He lay on his stomach for a moment, the side of his face pressed against the cool concrete. It felt good against his aching head. But his now-bare chest was starting to get cold, so he heaved himself to his feet and looked around for his glasses. They were a few feet away from where the chair had fallen, knocked off his face when he'd hit the ground. When he bent over to pick them up, he noticed something else lying nearby. He grabbed that as well, slid his glasses onto his face, and smiled.

A new spring in his step, he crossed to the door and gave two sharp knocks. He stepped back and hefted the electric baton Minion One had dropped and forgotten. When there didn't seem to be an immediate response, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and hollered at the top of his lungs, "Your prisoner is escaping!"

He heard stomping footsteps coming down the stairs, and he stepped to the side of the doorway.

Grumbling to himself, Minion Two slammed the door open and stormed inside. It took him a moment to register that the chair no longer held a captive, and by then, it was too late. Good Cop stepped up behind him and brought the baton down with a _crack_, and the minion crumpled to the floor.

Good Cop twirled the baton with satisfaction. It had a nice weight to it. He'd have to hang onto this.

He slipped out the door and crept up the stairs, sticking close to the wall. The next thing he had to do was figure out just how many guards there were. He peered out of the stairwell – off to his left, there was a kitchen with its table half-visible. Minion One was sitting at the part he could see, her uniform jacket off and a thick bandage around her arm. Her face was pale and drawn, and she was nursing at a bottle of beer. Someone across from her, out of sight, was talking.

"-stuck babysitting," he was saying. "This guy's a fucking asshole. I can't wait until we get to put a bullet in his brain. I'll let you do the honors."

But Minion One wasn't listening anymore. She glanced in the direction of the stairwell, and Good Cop ducked back. "Shouldn't Ted be back by now?" she asked.

"Maybe he's just giving the cop a few good kicks," said Minion Three, but he sounded doubtful.

"Go check," said Minion One, and Good Cop heard the scraping of a chair being pushed away from the table. He tensed, readying himself as footsteps approached. Minion Three stepped into the entrance of the stairwell, and his eyes widened when he saw Good Cop there, waiting for him. Before the minion could react, Good Cop grabbed him by the front of the shirt and sidestepped as he yanked him into the stairwell. Minion Three tripped past Good Cop, stumbled on the stairs, and went tumbling. He landed at the bottom of the flight with a _thud_ and didn't get up.

The sound alerted Minion One, and Good Cop heard her get up. As soon as she sounded close, he jumped out of the stairwell and swung the baton at head-level. It caught her on the temple, and she fell sideways against the wall, sliding to the floor. Good Cop bent over and undid her weapons belt, clipping it around his own waist. He checked its contents. A gun with a full clip, a hunting knife, and a holster for the baton. Perfect. He put the baton away and drew the gun. Keeping an eye out for more guards, he made his way down the hall, away from the kitchen, and found himself in a living room. There was a coffee table, a couch, and a couple of armchairs. He walked over to the window and looked out.

Beyond was an abandoned, half destroyed city. Was he in the aftermath of a war zone? Frowning, he decided that he needed to get a better look, maybe from somewhere higher up. There was a fairly intact three-story apartment building across the street, so he left the house and headed for it. Climbing the stairs left him out of breath, and he was beginning to feel light-headed.

Once he was on the roof, he scanned his surroundings, and realized with a jolt that he _did_ know this place. It was the Northeast Projects. He could even see the East Wall from here. Something caught his eye, something that stood out against the black of the metal wall. A yellow dot. He squinted, but it was too far away to tell what it was.

Then he noticed movement, just above the rooftops. It was a speck from here, but it seemed to be floating from roof to roof. Could it be… Benny?

Something behind him clattered, and he turned. A blue dog-like creature with long claws and a gaping maw was pulling itself up onto the roof.

_Hound._

Good Cop brought up his gun and fired once, twice. The first round hit it in the shoulder, and the second hit it in the throat. It let out a gurgling scream and fell back. He heard the crunch as it collided with the pavement below.

But the gunfire had drawn attention. More Hounds were beginning to emerge from surrounding buildings, a horrifying medley of mutated creatures with plenty of claws and fangs to go around. He looked over his shoulder at the possibly-Benny speck, and hoped that he'd heard the shots, too. Hoped that help was on the way.

Holding the gun in his right hand, he drew the knife with his left and settled into a fighting stance.


	29. Chapter 28

_and we're back! i've just about got it all plotted out, so things should be getting good :]_

* * *

Jenkins woke up around noon, still on the bed in the ER. Rubbing groggily at her eyes, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked it. There were ten voicemails from the station. Hitting play, she put the phone to her ear. Her eyes widened more and more with each message, and the last one was barely over before she was running out the door.

A few moments passed, and then she walked back in and sat down again. She pulled out her phone and selected a contact. It rang twice before there was an answer, and then she said, "Hey, Sergeant Yancy. I got your messages, but my car kind of exploded. Can you come get me?"

* * *

"So explain the timeline to me," Jenkins said as she buckled into the passenger seat of Yancy's patrol car.

Yancy began to pull out of the hospital parking lot. "Kinzel sent out his broadcast at seven this morning. Deputy Chu and Wyldstyle discovered one of his clues about an hour later."

"And you said in one of your messages that it had to do with the pattern of attacks, right?"

"Generally," Yancy replied. "There was one spot that didn't fit, though. The South Side station. So far, we don't have any idea why."

Jenkins chewed on her lower lip. "What next?"

"Deputy Chu sent a squad ahead to the Northeast Projects, but he took a detour to the hospital. That was around eight-thirty. We haven't heard from them since."

"Could they be in trouble?" Jenkins asked.

Yancy's grip tightened on the wheel. "We can't spare anyone to investigate. We're stretched thin as it is. Kinzel really struck a huge blow against us."

Jenkins stared vacantly out the window for a few moments before she said, "Take me to the South Side station."

* * *

Out of all the stations, this one had probably been hit the hardest. It had been almost completely reduced to rubble, and what was still upright creaked ominously. Officers in hardhats picked their way through the wreckage. Jenkins stood on the periphery and crossed her arms. "Has there ever been anything unusual about this station?"

Yancy scratched his head. "Not to my knowledge. Honestly, this station was the least busy one in the city."

"And yet Kinzel went out of his way to target it," Jenkins said, narrowing her eyes. "_That's_ suspicious. What does he know that we don't?"

"About one of our own stations?" Yancy asked doubtfully.

Without answering, Jenkins strode forward, not bothering to retrieve a hardhat. Yancy hurried after her. She worked her way through the ruins towards the nearest officer. "Hey!" she called.

The officer looked up as she approached. She showed him her badge and asked, "Have you discovered anything yet?"

The officer shook his head. "It's a mess. If there _was_ anything here, it's probably been destroyed."

Jenkins looked around. "Then do you think it could be a cover-up?"

"It's starting to look like it," the officer replied. "A damn good one, too."

"No," Jenkins said, her brow furrowing. "It's outside the pattern, which draws attention to it automatically. Kinzel would have known we'd be immediately suspicious of it."

"We've been searching this place for hours," the officer said, gesturing around him. "There's nothing here, not even in the basement."

Jenkins pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking hard. Then something occurred to her. "This is one of the older stations, isn't it?"

The officer nodded wordlessly.

"All of the old stations have sub-basements," Jenkins said. "From the early days of Business' reign. He used them to spy on the police force, since in the beginning a lot of dissenters came from the ranks. But once he got a full grip on the city, he didn't need them anymore, so he sealed them off."

Both Yancy and the officer stared at her. "How do you know all that?" Yancy asked.

Jenkins rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "After T.A.K.O.S. Tuesday, the Chief put me in charge of cleaning up the stations. He gave me access to all the blueprints, and I ended up spending a lot of time with them."

"Then we _haven't_ looked everywhere," the officer said with dawning realization.

Jenkins nodded. "What's your name?"

"Lieutenant Gary Stibbons, ma'am," he replied.

"Alright, Stibbons," Jenkins said. "Looks like we need to go deeper."

* * *

Getting into the basement was a little tricky – the stairwell had been filled up with debris, and the team earlier had only managed to clear it out enough for one person at a time to squeeze through, and once inside, it was pitch black. Jenkins flicked on her flashlight, and, behind her, Yancy and Stibbons did the same.

"The entrance should be a trapdoor in one of the corners," Jenkins said, swinging the beam of light around.

By some miracle – or, perhaps, design – the ceiling hadn't caved in, but the blast had still shaken the room up. The basement was being used as an archive, with rows of metal shelves stacked with boxes filled with files. Many of the shelves had tipped over, and the boxes had fallen, spilling their contents everywhere. It was evident that the mess had been rummaged through, but the search had been aimless, unsure of its goal. But _now_ they knew what they were looking for.

The stairwell occupied one corner, so each of them took one of the three other corners. These were especially cluttered, full of haphazard piles of boxes. None of them bothered with trying to keep it neat, shoving and dragging the boxes clear, and then Stibbons called, "I found it!"

Jenkins and Yancy hurried over. There it was – a metal trapdoor. It looked like it had been covered over by cement until recently.

Stibbons bent over and heaved it open. A ladder below descended into darkness. Jenkins put her flashlight between her teeth and lowered herself down, taking the ladder carefully, rung by rung. It wasn't long before her foot met the floor instead of the next bar, and she stepped back, taking her flashlight out of her mouth.

Then, as if activated by her presence, the lights flickered on. Stibbons and Yancy dropped down next to her.

"Huh," Stibbons said.

The room was completely empty, just a box of concrete barely large enough to hold a few desks. In the opposite wall was a door-shape, which had probably been the other entrance before the room had been sealed.

But then, in the wall to their left, was a gaping hole, jagged around the edges as if something had busted in from the other side. The air coming from the dark tunnel beyond was stale and musty.

Something next to the opening caught Jenkins' eye, and she walked over. It was a small sheet of paper taped to the wall, and Yancy and Stibbons joined her, peering over her shoulder.

"What is it?" Yancy asked.

There was a happy face scrawled on it, and underneath, written in neatly looping handwriting, were the words: _A light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps?_

Jenkins snatched it off the wall, crumpling it in her fist. This madman was messing with her city and _laughing_ about it. "Assemble the rest of the team," she growled. "We're going in."


	30. Chapter 29

Benny froze when he heard two sharp cracks echo off the buildings, swiveling his head in the direction he thought they'd come from. Unikitty stirred in their sling.

"Was that gunfire?" Wyldstyle called up at him.

"Sounded like," he replied, narrowing his eyes. There didn't seem to be anything apparent, but… He floated higher, trying to get a better view, and pulled out his binoculars. Then movement caught his eye, and he looked through the binoculars. One Hound, two, three… He scanned the area. There were Hounds just popping out of the woodwork, all headed in the same direction. He followed their path, and…

"Oh, that _idiot_," Benny groaned, and he dropped down to land next to Wyldstyle. "I found Good Cop," he said, putting away the binoculars.

"That was him?" Wyldstyle asked. "He escaped?"

"Seems so," Benny replied grimly. "But he's attracted the attention of every Hound in the Projects."

Wyldstyle frowned. "How far is he?"

"Ten minute walk, at least," Benny said, checking over his shoulder. Had he heard something? "I could get there in five on my own, but I wouldn't be able to get him out. I'm not sure if _both_ of us would be able to get him out. Not on our own."

"So we need a plan," Wyldstyle concluded.

Benny nodded, and then he heard it again. A kind of scratching, fluttering noise. He looked up. There was a huge, horribly mauve bird perched on the streetlamp above him, its scythe-like claws scoring into the metal. As soon as he looked at it, it stretched its hooked beak wide and _screamed_, pushing off the streetlamp, which bent slightly under the force of its takeoff.

Benny drew his gun as it spiraled upwards, and Wyldstyle held her weapon at the ready. She had time to mutter, "These things are _awful_," before it dove straight for them.

Benny fired once and hit it in the wing, and it squawked and tumbled off course, crashing into the middle of the street. Wyldstyle was on it in seconds, bringing her weapon around as it struggled to right itself. The saw sliced into its neck, and she yanked it free, the jagged edges tearing the wound wider. It flailed, breath gurgling in its throat and blood leaking from its jaw. Wyldstyle swung again, and it flopped limply to the ground.

Benny walked up to her, keeping his gun out. They looked at each other, and he pointed to his face and said, "You've got a little something right there."

She put a hand to her cheek, and it came away smeared with the Hound's deep red, almost black blood. "Ew," she said, wiping it off on her hoodie. "I am going to need to take a _long_ shower when we get home."

Benny hummed in agreement, still staring at the dead bird, and an idea occurred to him. "Let's fly," he said.

* * *

Good Cop heard a distant shriek, and had a split second to hope that Bad Cop and Benny were doing okay before another Hound lunged at him. He shot it between the eyes and rolled out of the way, coming up almost nose-to-nose with another Hound. In a swift motion, he brought the knife up into the soft underside of its jaw, forcing its head back and shooting it through the throat in an upward angle. There was scrabbling behind him, and he whipped around to see another Hound pulling itself onto the roof. He kicked it down as hard as he could, and it lost its hold and went plummeting to the ground.

They were coming at him from every direction, and it was only because they had to take the time to climb the building that he hadn't been completely swarmed yet. He could feel himself tiring, and his head was beginning to spin. It was a good thing he was made of tough stuff, or he'd probably be in pieces by now. There was a brief lull, and he took the opportunity to check his clip. Six rounds left. He gritted his teeth.

The next Hound came from the stairs, a lizard-thing slinking close to the ground. He met it head-on, jabbing it through the eye with the knife, then flipped it with a kick as it writhed and slashed its exposed throat. A second Hound leapt from the stairwell as he was occupied, slamming him to the ground on his back. The knife skittered away out of his hand, and he shoved the gun into its mouth and fired. It collapsed on top of him, driving the air out of his lungs.

There was another Hound pulling itself up onto the roof, and Good Cop struggled to free himself, pushing the dead monster off of him just in time to roll out of the way of the next Hound's attack. But he lost his balance coming up from the roll, and he tripped and fell. The Hound was coming around again, and he knew he wasn't going to have the time to dodge this time.

Then there was a shout of "_Hey!_" and both Good Cop and the Hound stopped to look.

"Holy hell," Good Cop said.

There was what appeared to be some kind of makeshift hang glider swooping towards him, cobbled together out of tarp and rebar. Benny was crouched on top, gripping the handles on either side of him, and Wyldstyle was below, hanging onto a bar, secured by a strip of canvas tied around her waist. As they drew closer, Wyldstyle heaved herself up on the bar and tipped forward, hooking her knees over the bar so she was dangling upside down with her arms outstretched. "Grab on!" she called.

For a moment, Good Cop was convinced there was no way this was going to work, but then he remembered that these people were Master Builders and pretty much anything was possible. So as the glider passed over, he dropped the gun, grabbed her hands, and held on for dear life as he was yanked off the roof. The Hound howled after them as they sailed upwards and away.

The glider was fast, and air rushed past his ears, drowning out all other sounds. Finally, it slowed as it reached the edge of the Projects, stopped to hover, and lowered down onto the roof of a building. Good Cop had never felt so relieved to have solid ground under his feet. Wyldstyle dropped off of it, and Benny landed it.

Benny scrambled off the glider and looked Good Cop over. He was a mess, smeared in a mixture of Hound blood and his own, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He didn't even have shoes on – when Benny had 'arrested' him, the spaceman had dragged Good Cop right from the apartment down to the station.

"I see you managed to get your shirt off," Wyldstyle said.

Good Cop lifted his hands, showing the bloody bandages wrapped around them. "It was sacrificed for a good cause." He looked at the glider, then at Benny. "How did you get that thing to _work?_"

"It can be hard for me to get my anti-grav to work on other people," Benny replied. "But since the glider was already predisposed to fly, I could use my ability to keep it in the air and control its speed. Pretty simple in the end."

"Yeah," Good Cop said vacantly. "Simple." He put a hand to his head. "I'm not feeling so great. Do we know how I can get Bad Cop back yet?"

Benny looked down. "Not without Unikitty."

Finally, Good Cop noticed the sling across Benny's chest with Unikitty carefully tucked into it. "Are they okay?" he asked.

"They will be," Benny said. "But they need rest."

"I hear that," Good Cop sighed.

"We'll get the both of you to the hospital," Wyldstyle said. "We got you early, so we're going to have extra time to find Emmet."

"Um," Benny said suddenly. "I'm actually not so sure about that."

"What?" Good Cop and Wyldstyle asked simultaneously.

Benny pointed towards Bricksburg.

There were several columns of black smoke rising in the distance, and even as they watched, a huge explosion went off a few miles away. They could see buildings crumble away in the blast.

Benny reached for the radio at his belt and tried it. "This is Deputy Chu," he said. "What's happening out there?"

And, at last, he received a reply. "_We're under attack!_" an officer on the other end shouted. "_There's Duplo soldiers and Hounds everywhere!_"

The three of them looked at each other.

"I get the feeling that there were a couple of rules to this game that Kinzel didn't tell us about," Wyldstyle said.


	31. Chapter 30

Ten minutes before the attack was launched, Jenkins led a team of eight officers into the tunnel.

* * *

The walls were cold and lumpy, but the bumps and ridges were oddly smooth. Jenkins ran a hand along the side of the tunnel, inspecting it with her flashlight, and it occurred to her that out of all the Hounds that Kinzel had, he probably had at least one that could spit acid. She shuddered and hoped that whatever had made this tunnel wasn't down here anymore.

And boy was the tunnel _long_. If it curved at all, it was impossible to tell. Could it be they were headed out of Bricksburg? By her reckoning, they were headed south, which would mean they were going to end up in the Old West. Why there?

She stopped suddenly, and Stibbons bumped into her, and Yancy bumped into him. "Isn't there an Uncharted Territory near the Old West?" she asked.

"Yeah," Yancy replied. "It's a pretty small one, though." Then he caught up to her train of thought. "You don't think…?"

"Kinzel came out of the Territories," Jenkins said. "He's bringing us to his home field."

"If that's the case, we're going to need more backup," Stibbons pointed out.

Jenkins nodded. They didn't get reception this far underground, so she shone her flashlight over the other officers following her. She pointed to the one at the very rear. "I need you to go back and gather reinforcements while we continue ahead," she said. "Hurry!"

The officer nodded and began to jog back the way they'd come. They'd already been walking for about a quarter of an hour. It was going to be at least forty-five minutes until reinforcements arrived, maybe even an hour since she planned on continuing to walk.

Jenkins pinched the bridge of her nose. The Uncharted Territories were the sections of land that Business had failed to gain control over. There was a point near the beginning where the Master Builders had tried to seek refuge in the Territories, but had found themselves very unwelcome. There had only been one exception – Cloudcuckooland. Princess Unikitty thought of their Territory as a safe haven for anyone in need, and if that sanctuary hadn't been provided, the Master Builders might not have lasted nearly as long against Business as they did.

All the other Territories were dangerous, in varying degrees. There was no telling what Kinzel was leading them into.

But there was nothing for it. "Come on," Jenkins said, and began to walk again.

* * *

It got very easy to lose track of time as they travelled through the tunnel. Jenkins took to periodically checking her watch. Half an hour since sending for backup. An hour. An hour and a half. Shouldn't help be arriving soon?

As the two-hour mark approached, a puff of fresher air brushed over Jenkins' face, and a dim light was visible from around the first turn that the tunnel had made so far. She flicked off her flashlight and raised her gun, gesturing to the others to do the same, and cautiously led her team around the corner. The tunnel opened up into another room, but the walls were made of fat wooden slats and the floor was smooth concrete. Jenkins could see the foot of a flight of stairs against the far wall. She crept forward, the rest following close behind her. There were several crates stacked around, but they were all empty. Slowly, she climbed the stairs, cringing internally as the old wood creaked under her weight.

At the top, she pushed open the door and peered out. There was an empty hallway beyond, with a once-plush maroon rug stretching along the wood floor and aging off-white walls. Once she was sure there was no one around, she stepped out and gestured for one half of the group to go one way down the hall while she led the other half the opposite way.

The direction she took brought her to another flight of stairs going up. It was quickly becoming clear that the house they were in had been once grand, but had long since been abandoned. These stairs creaked, too.

Then she froze when she heard voices, grip tightening on her gun. The conversation was to far to pick out the individual words, and so she hoped that would be enough to mask the creaking as she and her team ascended.

They made it to the landing (the beginning of another hallway) without drawing attention, and now she could hear the voices coming from behind the door at the far end of the hallway.

Out of all the other doors lining the sides of the hallway, only one other had a crack of light beneath it. It was about halfway down the hall, and she slowly made her way towards it, her team spread out behind her. Jenkins tested the knob, but it was locked, and she glanced towards the far door.

"Cover that door," she whispered, pointing to it, and waited until they'd taken up position between it and her before stepping away from the door in front of her and assessing it. Opens inward, probably solid core wood, weakest near the knob. No problem. She drew her leg back and placed a well-practiced kick just below the knob – the wood splintered and the door slammed open with a resounding crack.

There were immediately shouts from down the hallway, but she paid it no mind. Her team could deal with it. Instead, she stepped into the room, quickly scanning it and making sure the corners were clear.

Emmet was sitting, tied to a chair, in the middle of the room. As soon as he saw her, his face lit up. "Jenkins!" he exclaimed.

Gunfire erupted in the hallway, and Jenkins hurried over to him. "You're looking well," she murmured, pulling out a knife and sawing at his bonds.

Emmet gave her a lopsided smile. He had a black eye and a split lip, and there was a small trail of dried blood under his nose. "My hair's a bit mussed," he replied as his hands came free. He flexed them experimentally as Jenkins began cutting his ankles loose. "Is Lucy okay?"

Jenkins finished up and helped him to his feet. "Yeah," she said. "She's helping Bad Cop and Benny look for Good Cop."

Emmet sighed with relief. Outside, one last shot was fired. Stibbons backed into view and gave her a thumbs-up. Jenkins returned the gesture and helped Emmet hobble on unsteady legs out of the room. She handed him over to Stibbons and began to make her way down the hall. Her officers had taken the Duplos by surprise, and had outnumbered them as well, and so there was minimal injury to her side. The officers had gone ahead and swept the room.

Yancy hurried out and met her halfway. "You should see this," he said breathlessly.

Jenkins followed Yancy into the room, and he pointed to the table in the middle of it. There were maps and papers spread out all over it. She walked over and picked up the first document that caught her attention. After a brief moment of reading it over, her eyes widened, and she looked to Yancy. His face was set in a grim expression.

She put the paper down and shuffled through the others. Everything pointed to one conclusion.

"We need to warn Bricksburg," Yancy said.

Jenkins put a hand to her forehead. "I think it's probably too late for that."

The time was 2:30.


	32. Chapter 31

_fantasytree: y eah this kind of got way out of control. but you gotta admit, good cop is still having more issues than bad did._

* * *

The time was 1:45.

"B," Benny said as he looked out over the city. "Wake up."

No response. Benny glanced over at Good Cop, who was watching him with anticipation.

"Bad," Benny repeated. "Come on, man. I found your bro. And we've got kind of a situation."

Silence. Benny struggled to search out Bad Cop. He could feel the cop in the back of his mind, but only faintly. "Bad Cop!" he shouted.

Finally, Bad Cop stirred. _What's going on?_ he murmured, sounding sluggish.

"I have good news and bad news," Benny replied. "I'll give you the good news first. Let's switch."

There was a worrying pause, and then Bad Cop switched in. He fumbled for his aviators and poked himself in the eye as he put them on. Pushing them up his nose, he looked around, and his gaze settled on Good Cop. Overwhelming relief washed over both their faces, and they stepped forward and pulled each other into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bad Cop mumbled into Good Cop's shoulder, shaking. "I should have taken better care of you-"

Good Cop was trembling, too, clinging to Bad Cop like his life depended on it. "Don't be," he replied, his voice thick. "It's not your fault."

Wyldstyle shifted uncomfortably and looked away, feeling like she was intruding on something private. It was disconcerting to see the man – the _men _– who had been hunting her and her friends for nearly a decade so vulnerable. She didn't like how it made them seem that much more human. She'd spent the past eight and a half years thinking of them as more monsters than men, and, even after Bad Cop had switched sides, she'd been unwilling to let that view go. Too many of her friends had died at the cops' hands.

But watching them nearly crying into each other's arms, she began to think that maybe Benny really was right. In their own way, they were victims of Business, too. That didn't make their actions any less inexcusable, but maybe it _did_ make them worthy of redemption.

She looked out at Bricksburg. They had to get going, but she felt loath to interrupt the moment that the cops were having.

Bad Cop came to her rescue by pulling away from Good Cop and saying, "Benny said there was bad news."

Wordlessly, Good Cop pointed towards the city.

"Oh," Bad Cop said.

Wyldstyle took this opportunity to step into action. "We have to get moving," she said. "The police force is scattered and outnumbered, and the other Master Builders are only going to be able to provide so much help. We need serious backup."

Both Good and Bad Cop's brows furrowed in a mirror of each other's expression. "Where would we get that?" Good Cop asked.

"I have an idea," Wyldstyle replied. "But you're not going to like it."

* * *

Business sat in an armchair by the window, staring vacantly out at the city as in the distance yet another bomb went off. He was sure that out there were Master Builders fighting Duplos alongside the police force, and he thought maybe he should help somehow, but his mind had gone blank. The cogs in his head should be spinning, the cold and calculating part of his brain should be springing into action, trying to figure a way out of this mess, but there was nothing. He felt oddly dazed. _This_ was what the end of the world looked like. Not some sad attempt at keeping everything permanently in place.

That was it. He'd been outdone.

Bricksburg was going to become like one of the Uncharted Territories, and _god_ he hated the Uncharted Territories. They were a nightmare, and each one had something horribly unique about it, though the Forest of Obsolete Products was by far the worst. It was absolutely infested with Hounds, and it had sentient plants and trees that moved in herds. Trees were supposed to stay _put_. Every time Business had tried to go there the layout had changed. It was the first area ever he took off his 'World Domination List,' and it wasn't the last. The Territories seemed perfectly designed to drive Business and his tight sense of order up the wall to a point where he didn't even want to deal with them. But they hadn't caused a fuss once the walls had been put up, and so Business focused all his attention on the Master Builders, eager to forget about the existence of the Territories.

It seemed now like that had been a huge mistake.

Then there was a knock at his door, and he pushed himself out of his chair with a groan. He crossed the room and opened the door. And his eyes widened.

"Oh," he said. "Um. Hello."

The trio in the hallway was quite a sight. The cops' tall figure towered in the doorway, dressed only in sweatpants and bloodied and bruised. Then Benny beside him, jacket in a sling to hold Unikitty and wearing Bad Cop's overlarge aviators. Wyldstyle stood in front, leaning on a bloodied saw-spear thing and spattered in Hound blood.

Good Cop looked like he was barely resisting the urge to punch Business in the face, and while it was hard to tell Bad Cop's expression behind the sunglasses, he probably had the same look as his brother. Wyldstyle's glaring eyes burned holes into him.

"Is there a problem?" he managed to say.

"Have you looked outside yet today?" Wyldstyle snarled, pushing her way into the penthouse. Business staggered away to let her through, eyes dropping to the floor as the cops passed him.

Irritation flashed through him at her words. "That's not what I meant," he snapped, "and you know it."

Wyldstyle jabbed a finger at him. "You're in no position to take that kind of tone with me. Have you just been _sitting_ here?"

Business looked away guiltily, and that was answer enough.

Wyldstyle clenched her jaw. "Well, we've got something for you to do now."

The meaning behind this sunk in, and Business raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you… are you asking me for help?"

Wyldstyle's hands balled into fists, and she scowled.

Business put a hand to his forehead. "Oh, wow," he said with a disbelieving laugh. "You must be desperate. It's gotta be killing you, coming to _me_ for help."

Then he felt a looming presence behind him, and he swallowed, looking cautiously around. It was Good Cop, murder in his eyes. "If you say no," Good Cop said, "it's going to be killing _you_."

Wyldstyle held out a hand. "Whoa there, cowboy," she said, giving Good Cop a warning look. "We're not here to make threats, alright?"

Good Cop took a reluctant step back. Business glanced around. Bad Cop was lurking on the edge of the group, glowering in silence.

"What do you need me to do?" Business asked.


	33. Chapter 32

_thanks to my friend katy, who helped me write the confrontation with business!_

* * *

"Can you do it from here?" Wyldstyle asked.

"Of course I can do it from here," Business snapped, sitting down behind his desk. Wyldstyle hovered over his shoulder, watching as he powered up his computer. Good Cop had gone to shower, and Bad Cop had trailed along, unwilling to be separated from his counterpart again.

"I thought they were going to be scrapped," Business muttered as he began to type.

"We hadn't gotten around to it yet," Wyldstyle replied, leaning forward a bit to watch what he was doing.

"Well, you're lucky that- ugh!" He swatted at her. "Out of my space, please!"

She stepped aside a little, rolling her eyes. "How long is this going to take?"

"Starting them up? Give me maybe ten minutes. I need to reprogram them a little. And it'll probably be another ten before they get here." He ran a hand through his hair as he waited for a long document to load. Complex code rolled down the screen.

"Jeez," Wyldstyle said, leaning in again unconsciously. "You can read all that?"

Business pushed her away again. "_Duh_," he replied. "I designed and programmed them myself."

"Wow," Wyldstyle said, putting her hands on her hips. "I had no idea. That's… pretty impressive."

"Can I get that in writing?" Business asked dryly.

She glared at him. "No."

* * *

In the bathroom, Good Cop pulled on the T-shirt that Business had given him. It was tight on him, and he tugged at the neck of it in an attempt to loosen it a little. He'd had to put his bloody sweatpants back on because Business didn't have anything that would fit him. Bad Cop was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him. His sunglasses were folded on the counter beside him.

Good Cop glanced over at him. "Are you okay?"

Bad Cop snorted. "Am _I_ okay? I'm more worried about _you_."

Good Cop rubbed the back of his head. His brother had helped him get proper bandages on his hands. "I'm fine. I'd like to get back to our place and get some proper gear on."

Bad Cop propped his chin in his hand. "That'll be our next stop."

"Thank god." Good Cop kept looking at his counterpart. It was strange to see such familiar expressions on Benny's boyish face. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Bad Cop's wrist, pulling it gently towards himself. Bad Cop let him, and twined his fingers through Good's.

"I miss you," Good Cop said, tightening his grip a little.

"I know," Bad Cop replied, his gaze dropping. "I'm sorry I was such a bloody eedjit. If I hadn't-"

"No," Good Cop interrupted. "You were just trying to protect me."

"And I did a bang-up job of it," Bad Cop said. His jaw clenched.

Good Cop squeezed his eyes shut. "We can't focus on that right now. We have a city to save."

Bad Cop swallowed hard. "You're right," he managed. "Let's go see how Wyldstyle and Business are doing."

* * *

Wyldstyle and Business were doing surprisingly well, with minimum bickering. She'd developed a bit of grudging respect for him as she watched him work, from one craftsperson to another. Business might have been using the Think Tank to get Master Builders to work for him, but he was the one who had designed it. She thought he'd gotten another Master Builder to do it for him, but in reality he'd done it all himself – the Think Tank, the robots, the micromanagers. They were all his.

"Why did you even _need_ the Think Tank?" she asked.

"Well, I can't do _everything_ myself, much as I'd like to," Business replied as he finished up. "And I needed the Master Builder's creativity. I'm not…" The words stuck in his mouth for a moment, and he looked like he'd bit into a lemon. "I'm not very good at that sort of thing."

Wyldstyle smirked, hopping up to sit on the desk next to where Unikitty was curled up. "Sounds like you're improving in the humility department."

Business gave her a baleful look. "Off the desk."

She crossed one leg over the other.

Grumbling, Business hit a few more keys and leaned back. "They should be on their way."

"Ten minutes, you said?"

"Hopefully less."

Wyldstyle made a contemplative sound, then looked up as Bad Cop and Good Cop walked into the room. "How're you guys doing?" she asked.

Good Cop shrugged, seemingly reluctant to say anything. Bad Cop looked a little wobbly on Benny's legs.

"We've got to wait a bit," Wyldstyle said. "I know you guys want to get back to your apartment as soon as possible, but we should hole up here until backup arrives."

Good Cop nodded.

"That's fine," Bad Cop said. He looked around, spotted a plush armchair, and sank into it.

Business glanced nervously over his shoulder at them, then looked to Wyldstyle. She arched one eyebrow questioningly.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, then turned around. "Good Cop," he said.

Good Cop's fists clenched, and he looked down.

"Please hear me out," Business said.

Good Cop gritted his teeth. "What is there to hear?"

"A sincere apology," Business replied, standing up.

"Oh, that's nice," Good Cop scoffed, finally meeting Business' eyes. His gaze was dark and murky. "That'll fix everything, will it?"

"Of course not," Business said, resisting the urge to look away. "But it's a start, isn't it?"

"A start to _what_?" Good Cop snapped.

"To making amends!" Business said, raising his hands in frustration. "I'm trying to be a better person, Good Cop! And I can't do that without you and Bad Cop."

Good Cop looked over at where Bad Cop was sitting. His face was unreadable behind the aviators. Good Cop turned his attention back to Business. "No," he said. "I can't forgive you."

"You don't need to forgive me," Business said desperately, putting a hand to his chest. "Just please listen to what I have to say."

"No," Good Cop repeated, at the same time Bad Cop said, "Alright."

Good Cop shot Bad Cop a look. "_What?_"

Bad Cop pushed himself out of the chair. "We're making a new life for ourselves here, but that means letting go of our past. I'm surprised _I'm_ the one who has to tell _you_ this. Let's just hear him out. Then we can decide."

Good Cop's jaw worked. "It doesn't matter what he says."

Business took a step forward. "Why not?"

Good Cop whirled on him. "Because I _know!_" he shouted. "I can see it in your face! You say you're sorry, and I believe you. But I _can't let this go!_"

Business, taken aback, opened his mouth to speak, but Good Cop cut him off. "No," he said. "Stop apologizing. It doesn't matter anymore. Look at our face. That's your handiwork. You've left so many scars on us. All the apologies in the world won't wipe that slate clean."

"I'm not _trying_ to wipe it clean!" Business insisted. "I'm not trying to start over. I'm trying to improve myself, to pick up the pieces. And I'm so sorry for what I did to you-"

"I said _stop!_" Good Cop screamed. "It's not about what you did to me!"

Stunned silence fell over the room. Good Cop stood in the center of attention, breathing heavily, his face flushed red with fury.

"Wh… What?" Business croaked.

"It's about what you did to _my brother_," Good Cop said, jabbing his finger in Bad Cop's direction, towering over Business. "It's about what…" His throat closed up. "What _I_ did to him."

Bad Cop's hand was suddenly on Good Cop's arm. "What do you mean?" he asked softly.

Good Cop couldn't look at him. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on Business. "You broke me," he said. "But I wasn't… I wasn't strong enough to stop you." He was beginning to shake. "All our life, Bad's been the one who protected me. And when he needed me most, I couldn't protect him. I couldn't-"

Bad Cop's grip tightened, and finally Good Cop looked down at him. "Don't be ridiculous," Bad Cop said hoarsely. "What kind wobbly logic is that?"

"You don't _get_ it, Mal," Good Cop replied, feeling his legs weakening under him. "When the wall came down, I saw it all. Your memories from when I'd been gone. You just… you just _gave up_."

"That was _my_ fault, you silly git," Bad Cop said, taking his sunglasses off with his free hand so he could look Good Cop in the eye.

"I wasn't there for you," Good Cop said. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, head bowed. "And I should have been. But I wasn't strong enough."

Bad Cop plopped down next to him, crossing his arms. "You're the one who doesn't bloody get it," he snapped. "Not strong enough? What a crock of shit. Look at yourself."

Good Cop blinked at him, then looked down at his bandaged hands clenched on the floor, his bloodstained sweatpants. After a moment, he said, "What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"You're supposed to be seeing the strongest person I've ever known," Bad Cop said with a glare. "You said it yourself – I gave up when I lost you. But _you _didn't. You put up a real fight. And you were strong enough to come back."

Good Cop dragged a hand down his face and gave Bad Cop a weak, watery smile. "I guess you're right."

"Darn straight, I'm right," Bad Cop huffed. "Now get up and let the man speak."

Slowly, Good Cop pushed himself to his feet and looked at Business, who had gone totally pale. A little ways behind him, Wyldstyle had become very focused on petting Unikitty's soft fur.

Business swallowed. "You don't need to forgive me," he said, his gaze dropping. "I'm not sure if I even want you to. I just want you two to accept my apology."

Good Cop looked down at Bad Cop, who gave a small nod. "Yes," Good Cop said. "We accept."

All the tension drained from Business' body, and his eyes slid shut with a small sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Bad Cop made to stand up, but his legs wobbled and he fell back.

"You okay?" Good Cop asked, extending his hand down to help his counterpart.

Bad Cop took his hand, and Good Cop hauled him to his feet. "Not sure," Bad Cop replied. "I feel a little odd."

Almost as if on cue, his knees buckled under him, and only Good Cop's grip on him kept him from falling to the floor again. Bad Cop leaned against his counterpart for support. "I think it's getting harder for me to control Benny's body," Bad Cop said weakly.

Wyldstyle was next to him in a flash, pushing his hair back from his forehead and searching his eyes. "You need to switch out," she said after a moment. "You don't belong in this body. It's starting to reject you."


	34. Chapter 33

"Did you know this would happen?" Good Cop asked sharply.

Wyldstyle ran a hand through her hair. "I knew it was a possibility," she sighed. "But I honestly don't know that much about how mindspaces work, and he hadn't been showing any signs of it earlier." She looked at Bad Cop. "You need to put Benny back in control. Being inactive will slow it down."

Bad Cop closed his eyes, his face creasing in concentration. After a pause, Benny blinked his eyes open. He looked around at the group. "I heard it all," he said. "What do we do?"

Wyldstyle glanced over her shoulder at where Unikitty was curled up on the desk, snoring softly. "We can't do anything," she said. "Not without Unikitty. They know the most about mindspaces besides…" She swallowed.

Benny rubbed the back of his neck. He knew the name Wyldstyle was having trouble bringing herself to say. _Vitruvius_. The elderly wizard had been like a father to her, and she was one of the people who'd been hit hardest by his death.

But she was saved from having to continue as a faint rumble started up in the distance. The three of them ran to the window and looked out. There was a black line forming on the horizon, growing larger and larger with every moment. Soon they could see the individual blocky shapes of the micromanagers, mixed in with the thudding rotors of the copper-choppers.

Wyldstyle smirked, looking over at Benny. "I think the tables just turned," she said.

The time was 2:30.

Benny's phone rang.

Jenkins stood on the roof of the house, her phone connected by a cord to an antennae array that she was holding as high as she could, being the tallest one there. Reception was hard to get this close to the Old West. It rang twice before Benny's voice answered. "_J.J.?_"

"I have bad news, sir," she said.

"_I can't hear you very well._"

Jenkins stood on tiptoe, trying to stretch her arm even further into the air. The static cleared a little. "Bad news!" she shouted.

"_But we have good news!_" Benny said. "_We found Good Cop, and Business got the bots and micromanagers working again to help fight the Duplos!_"

"My news is still bad," Jenkins replied grimly. "The Duplos aren't the half of it."

"_What?_"

"I said-!"

"_No, no, I heard you. What do you mean?_"

"You know about the Forest of Obsolete Products, right?"

"_Generally, yes._"

Jenkins glanced over at Yancy and Stibbons next to her, and told Benny the bad news.

"_You… you're kidding me._"

"I've got all the plans and blueprints right here, sir."

"_Kinzel left it just laying out for you to find?_"

"Maybe," Jenkins said. "But he'd have known that if we found it, we'd still be too late to stop it. He's been planning this for years, and we fell right into his trap. It was never about finding Emmet or Good Cop. It was about scattering us."

She heard Benny swallow on the other end of the line. "_And we're very scattered. Sending teams around to all the different attacked stations to investigate, getting us to go to the Projects, leading you out of Bricksburg…_"

"He had it all planned out from the start," Jenkins confirmed. "The micromanagers and bots will help, but I'm not sure if it'll be enough. I think there's only one shot we have."

"_What's that?_"

"Cut the head off the snake," she replied. "Kinzel is pulling all the strings, almost literally. Without orders from him, it'll all fall apart. You need to get to him directly."

"_We don't know where he is._"

"When he gives the signal, you'll know."

"_What's the signal?_"

"You'll know it when you see it."

"_J.J., that's not helpf-_" A burst of static cut him off.

"Benny?" Jenkins asked, trying to reach even higher. She wobbled, and Stibbons put out a hand to steady her.

Crackle. "-_losing yo_-" Buzz. "-_et back as fast as you c-_"

Then the signal vanished entirely. Jenkins lowered her aching arm, her jaw clenched. She turned to Yancy and Stibbons. "You reckon this place has a garage?"

Benny snapped his phone shut. The blood had drained from his face.

"What happened?" Wyldstyle asked, her face drawn with worry.

Benny put his hand to his forehead. "You know how the Forest of Obsolete Products has large, vicious moving plants?"

Both Wyldstyle and Business nodded. They had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"Well," Benny said. "The large, vicious plants are moving in."


	35. Chapter 34

_sorry this took so long! (and it's short, too). i hit a bit of writer's block, but hopefully we should be back on track!_

* * *

Kinzel snapped the buckle of his belt shut, adjusting the sword at his side. He'd changed into more formal clothes, though still in his royal blue – a crisp military dress uniform-like jacket with coattails with a column of three gold chains decorating the front, the skirt traded in for form-fitting pants tucked into his boots. A black skeleton key hung on a fine chain around his neck. He brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder and looked at Rawley, who was sliding a clip into her gun.

She saw him looking at her and grinned, holstering her gun. "This is it, sir."

He smiled back at her. "Indeed it is. Everything in position?"

Rawley checked her computer tablet. "Good Cop and Emmet have been found, and probably the plans, too. The police force is in no shape to fight back, and we already let the Hounds out in the city. Looks like someone had the bright idea to reboot Business' old bots, but I doubt it'll make much difference. Just draw out the battle a little longer." She hesitated. "Are you sure we should have left the plans where they could find them?"

"It gives them some hope," Kinzel replied, idly toying with the key. "I just can't resist an opportunity to crush my enemies' hopes."

Rawley smirked, pocketing her tablet. "I believe we're due to make our entrance, sir."

Kinzel turned to her. "This will be our greatest fight yet. Are you ready to follow me?"

She saluted. "Always, sir," she said. "All the way into hell."

* * *

The house did, indeed, have a garage. Well, it was more of a barn, really. For an Uncharted Territory, this one was relatively small, perhaps ten miles across at most. It resembled the Old West in some ways – dusty and dry, the abandoned wooden houses windswept and sun-bleached. Unsurprisingly, since it shared a border with the desert realm. But it was eerily silent, a ghost town. It put Jenkins on edge, and she kept her hand on the butt of her holstered gun as she led Emmet and her team into the rickety wood structure of the barn.

Inside it was spacious, and had obviously held a number of vehicles until recently. All that was left now, however, was a large, partially dismantled tractor. Jenkins glanced over at Emmet. "Think you can get that thing running?" she asked, nodding her head at it.

Emmet had been honing his Master Builder abilities these past few months, and he grinned, cricked his neck, and replied, "Better than new."

* * *

In Business' car (with a few touch-ups from Benny), they made it quickly back to the cops' apartment, Benny's modifications allowing them to jet past above the battles in the streets. They parked the car on the roof of the apartment building and hurried down the steps. Benny realized that he'd lost his keys somewhere along the way, so Wyldstyle just kicked down the door. Once inside, Good Cop made a beeline for the bedroom, the other three tagging along close behind him.

"What are we looking for?" Benny asked.

Good Cop didn't respond, instead going over to the bureau against the wall and pulling on it, dragging it away. He put his hands to the section of the wall that the bureau had been in front of, feeling for something. Then he let out a satisfied, "Ah!" and pressed on something. There was a _click_, and a large portion of the wall swung outwards, revealing a secret cubbyhole.

"Holy _shit_, dude," Benny said.

"_Awesome_," Wyldstyle said.

Business, however, was entirely unsurprised.

Good Cop stepped aside, and made a theatrical gesture to it. "I present to you," he said, "our secret armory."

It truly was nothing short of a full armory. More kinds of guns than Benny could name, body armor, riot gear, smoke grenades, _actual_ grenades… the works.

"All you're missing is a rocket launcher," Benny said dryly.

Good Cop reached inside and fished around out of sight, before smiling with satisfaction and pulling out a rocket launcher. "Do you want it?" he asked, offering it to Benny with a smirk.

"What is all this _doing_ here?" Wyldstyle asked.

"We're very paranoid," Good Cop replied, leaning the rocket launcher against the wall. "It's just a courtesy to Benny that Bad Cop doesn't sleep with a gun under his pillow. Making this is probably one of the first things he did after moving in."

Benny put a hand to his forehead. "This has been here the whole time?"

"Yep!" Good Cop said cheerfully.

"Holy shit," Benny repeated. "We could arm a small army with all this."

"Or fight one," Wyldstyle pointed out.

"Right on the mark, lassie," Good Cop said, practically buzzing with excitement that had an almost malicious edge to it. He was ready to dish out some payback for the frankly awful day he'd had so far. "Now," he continued, contemplating the armory, "does anyone want a shotgun?"


End file.
